


Growing Pains

by Nimbus_Cloud



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Reconciliation, Reunions, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimbus_Cloud/pseuds/Nimbus_Cloud
Summary: Five years after his graduation, Yaku is the model image of a responsible Japanese man.  After leaving behind volleyball and love, he's graduated university with honors, has a stable career as a salaryman in Kyoto... and is lonelier than he's ever been.Five years after Yaku's graduation, Lev is the model image of a, well, model.  Busy between photo-shoots and the eccentric and glamorous lifestyle of entertainment, he never expected to run into Yaku-san, his demon-senpai, his high school crush, ever again.When they do meet again by chance, it's wonderful and nostalgic, but also a painful reminder of missed opportunities.
Relationships: Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 122
Kudos: 575





	1. Reunion

It goes without saying that graduations are a bittersweet affair. But for Yaku it leaned on the sweeter side overall; he certainly wasn’t going to cry over it. He’d taken full advantage of his high school experience and had no outstanding regrets, he thought. He’d done most everything he wanted to do, especially when it came to volleyball. They’d made it to Nationals as  promised and played that insane battle of the trash heap against  Karasuno , which would be a game he’d remember for the rest of his life probably. That’s where he’d spent his tears, and even those were mostly joy. Nationals had also gotten him scouted, and now he had a position waiting for him on Kyoto University’s men’s volleyball team. He had a future waiting for him out west, and he was ready.

At least, he usually felt ready unless Lev was around. Whenever that half-Russian yeti graced him with his towering presence, Yaku always found himself looking back instead of forward (also up, which was even more irritating). It was hard to chase the future when you felt like you were leaving something behind. Sacrificing it, almost. 

He knew Kuroo understood the feeling of always wanting to keep a step back to allow for someone to catch up... but two was twice one, and Yaku couldn’t reasonably wait that long. Not to mention, he was going away, and Kuroo wasn’t. It was just bad timing, he’d decided, to meet when they did. Just not meant to be.

But the decision wasn’t entirely his, was it?

Which was how he ended up on the morning of his graduation looking at a blushing, uncharacteristically shy and quiet Lev, who was wringing his hands around the hem of his blazer so tight, surely those creases would never iron out again.

“I’m... I promise that I’ll keep working on my receives,” Lev stammered.

A decent start, but not the point of the conversation, he was sure. “You better!” Yaku barked, his smile ruining any attempt at intimidation.

“And also...” Lev faltered, and an unusual, uncomfortable silence hovered between them.

It was so unlike his usual straightforward idiocy, it frightened Yaku beyond all reason. If Lev was hesitating, it meant that he had put in an inordinate amount of thought, which was dangerous. Yaku knew what was probably coming, their odd little dance over the past year had been impossible to ignore. He’d seen how Lev looked at him sometimes... he knew how his own expressions felt when he looked at Lev. Even without Kuroo’s teasing, he’d known his own feelings. 

Two years, he reminded himself. It was nothing. It was a lifetime. Anything could happen in two years—two years ago, Yaku had never even known Haiba Lev existed. For teenagers, two years was practically a decade. 

“Spit it out!” Yaku demanded, hating how his own voice quivered.

He would not make this easy for Lev. He never went easy on Lev. That was their default, but it was never before so difficult.

“Can you meet me behind the gym after school?” Lev finally managed, his eyes bright and determined and full of that naïve eagerness that ruined Yaku’s resolve. 

“Why don’t you just say it now, whatever it is?”

Yaku wanted it over with. Lev would confess, Yaku would fight against every fiber of his being to break Lev’s heart, and then they would both get on with their lives. In two years, they’d both probably forget about it entirely. 

“It has to be after school!” Lev insisted. “That’s the traditional setting!”

_ You’re giving it away, dumbass _ . Yaku fought against the grin that threatened to give away his mask of ignorance. 

“Behind the gym!” Lev repeated as the first bell rang, urging them inside. And then he ran off with a wave that Yaku thoughtlessly returned.

Hours later, Lev waited restlessly beneath the cherry blossom trees behind the gym. They were nearly all in full bloom, and when the breeze picked up, a scatter of petals would rain down. The setting was picturesque, the definition of cliché, and it was perfect. 

But Yaku never came to meet him.

===== Five Years Later =====

Yaku awoke in  an absolutely foul mood. He hated dreaming about the past, and he hated it even more when those dreams were about Lev. Probably his brain prompted a nice dose of existential dread thanks to Kai’s text from the day before about a  Nekoma team reunion, featuring most of the team from their third-year. Their best team—from when they stood at the top. Anyway, they’d hated nearly all of their upperclassmen.

There were a million reasons to go, but a few key reasons not to. First, he lived in Kyoto and he’d need to go all the way to Tokyo to see everyone. Second, he’d  really only kept in touch with Kai. He felt guilty about that, especially toward a couple of the underclassmen who’d hoped to stay in touch with him like Shibayama... but college had been difficult, and by adulthood it felt like too late to try and re-establish those connections. Third, well... if he was going to quibble about not being able to face the underclassmen, then there was absolutely one  in particular that made the trip impossible.

He did truly hope that Lev had forgotten about it and dismissed Yaku’s memory as that of a crotchety demon  _ senpai  _ that he had a stupid young crush on... but Yaku had such trouble forgetting  _ that day  _ whenever he thought about Lev, so it was hard to trust that Lev had let it go. 

Or maybe that was just vain, wishful thinking.

Groaning, Yaku hauled himself out of bed and texted Kai that he’d review his work schedule and let him know.

Inside, he’d already decided not to go.

He inhaled his morning coffee, pulled on his drab grey suit, laced up his old, worn oxfords, and trudged out the door to work. It was cloudy and grey but no forecast of rain, so he left his umbrella behind to go wait for his bus. It was getting more and more crowded every morning as the tourist season approached—more rowdy teenagers on school trips and loud foreigners who marveled in a dozen languages at even the most mundane surroundings. The excitement around him only made the prospect of another monstrous day at work even more unbearable, and really, that was what he truly hated about tourist season. Not the increased volume of people, just their... enthusiasm for life. 

But while Yaku was going to be a curmudgeon about it (because he’d long accepted that he’d been born with the soul of an old man), he had coworkers who could apparently still feel joy. The two who were closest to him in age, Tomisaki Hideki and Sakai Takashi, always looked forward to _sakura_ season and its influx of people. Somehow. 

“It makes Kyoto feel more metropolitan,”  Tomisaki explained.

“Yeah, I miss the hustle and bustle of Tokyo,” Sakai added, nudging Yaku’s shoulder in the break room. “I really thought you’d understand me, Yaku-san, since you’re from Tokyo too.”

“Nah, he’s a city boy born with the heart of a country geezer,” Tomisaki teased.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Yaku frowned. “It’s just not something I care about.”

The other two grimaced at the complete apathy. It was difficult to make  conversation with Yaku on the best of days, and those were few and far between. 

“I want to get in on the tourist action,”  Tomisaki said suddenly. “Go sightseeing,  sakura viewing... I transferred here for work and I haven’t even seen the city yet—it's been months!”

Yaku mused that the eagerness was kind of adorable in a way. It’d been several years since he’d moved to Kyoto (first for college before staying for work), and he’d yet to be overcome with the urge to really explore his new surroundings. There was a lot to Kyoto he still hadn’t seen.

“I’ll go with you,” Sakai offered, then wrapped an arm around Yaku. “Let’s all do it. It’s not a bad idea to make  weekend plans.”

Yaku scowled. “When did I agree to go?”

“Oh come on, it’s not like you had any other plans, right?”

He thought of  Kai’s invitation to Tokyo and  bit his lip. “...no. I don’t.”

“Perfect, it’ll be like team bonding then. I know you’ve probably been a loner all your life, Yaku-san, but at some point you’ll see the value in being part of a team.”

There were about a million things Yaku could argue in response to that, but every explanation would take too much time and effort and he had no overwhelming desire to share about his past.  So he just scowled instead, exasperated, but also the now the tiniest bit relieved that he had an excuse to give to Kai for his absence. His manager had just stolen his weekend, and that was on par with getting really  really ill. 

Growing up in Tokyo, Yaku was no stranger to tourists and/or foreign residents. His school had had the litany of rotating, foreign ALTs that tried their damndest to instill any semblance of English education while  the majority of students tuned them out. They were nice enough, but ultimately blended into the school scenery among a wide array of subjects Yaku could not even pretend to care about beyond obtaining a decent letter grade. Even the obtuse tourists that wandered the city blended together—yeah, that white guy standing right in the middle of Shibuya crossing with his selfie stick was definitely in the way... but so were the other dozens of tourists doing the exact same thing, and no small handful in that crowd were non-Tokyo Japanese. 

Maybe it was the old, traditional temple settings that did it, but tourists  _ really  _ stood out in Kyoto in a way that they just didn’t in Tokyo. It wasn’t just the  setting, it was their demeanor—they all sort of came alive looking at the truest examples of Japanese culture and history. Shibuya Crossing, while famous, was still just a traffic intersection. Those were technically all over the world. But nowhere else in the world had Kiyomizu- dera . Even Yaku could appreciate that. 

Spring had brought the beautiful  _ sakura _ to bloom across the city, perfecting the landscape with pink and white sprinkles, and it was just serene enough to make Yaku think that maybe, just maybe, his co-workers had struck gold with their ideas this time, and that going out like this would be nice on occasion.

Tomisaki was admiring the scenery and the architecture, but Sakai was paying notably more attention to the people in the crowds, same as Yaku.

“Why does blond hair look so good with kimono?” he was sighing dreamily at one of the many tourists who’d reserved a kimono photoshoot around Gion, and Yaku and  Tomisaki both whacked him in the back for staring.

“You just have a thing for blonds,”  Tomisaki clicked his tongue. “I still think if it’s going to be a kimono, it looks best on a classic Japanese girl with long straight black hair...”

But Sakai was shaking his head at this. “Too traditional, too old-fashioned. It’s about bringing new life into our traditions, changing it up, making it modern! A  _ gaijin  _ in a kimono, now  _ that’s  _ globalization. And even if it’s annoying, some of them look damn better than we do. Like that guy!”

Sakai pointed at another group doing a photoshoot under a cluster of blossoms, looking absolutely picture perfect, namely because they were obviously a professional camera crew. These were not tourists at all, they were models, and Yaku stopped in his tracks as suddenly as a tourist in the middle of Shibuya Crossing. 

The tall  _ gaijin  _ in question modeling a subtly patterned deep-green kimono had similarly deep green eyes and unmistakable silver-blond hair. 

It had been five years since Yaku had seen Lev, but he’d know him anywhere... and the boy he remembered had aged so well, he felt an old familiar rush of frustration for the giant idiot. If he’d looked like  _ that  _ five years ago, Yaku might have thrown all his worries to the wind and gone to meet him after all. 

He stood too long staring, and their eyes met accidentally when Lev turned his perfect jaw at the photographer’s instruction to look their way. 

For the briefest of moments, Yaku was back in high school, back on his graduation day, and he was meeting Lev behind the gym after school under the cherry blossoms and the world was very different. Brighter. 

But the spell lasted maybe half a second before Lev’s expression slipped out of its model poise and elegance into complete shock, eyes growing wide like a cat catching a whiff of catnip. In the next half-second, he was rushing over to Yaku and wrapping him into a ridiculously tight (and frankly, unexpected) hug. 

“Yaku-san! Oh wow, I can’t believe it! How many years has it—it's been so long! And I, I think you’ve gotten taller too, wow!”

Lev was beaming, Yaku was too stunned—his mind had gone somewhere far  far away, where life was boring and peaceful and not in the least bit mortifying. 

“Yaku, you know this guy?!” It was marvelous how well Sakai could enunciate anything with his jaw on the ground.

“He, uh...”

“I’m a _kouhai_ from high school, we were on the volleyball team together!” Lev, always so quick to share.

“You never told us you played volleyball!”

“I—”

“What a handsome _kouhai_ you have, Yaku-san!”

“No, seriously, volleyball?”

“Oh, he was the best on our team!” Lev was as good at social interaction as ever—it was the one thing Yaku could never teach him. “He got an offer to play for Kyoto U after his last Spring High—”

“You guys were good enough to go to Spring High?!”

“You never told us you were scouted to play for college teams, Yaku-san!”

“Where did you go to high school? I’m looking this up right now.”

Yaku was sure his brain was leaking out of his ears. Or that he was surely somehow straddling realities. Maybe a time slip. His past and his present were colliding via the unstoppable force that was  Haiba Lev, and Yaku was unsure if he could escape the encounter with all his atoms intact. But maybe being vaporized was the preferred outcome? Maybe if he shut his eyes he could fall into the black hole just behind his eyelids and give himself to oblivion.

“Yaku-san?”

He opened his eyes. Apparently, Oblivion was closed for business this afternoon.

Lev looked apologetic. He remembered that face well. “I’m sorry, my manager’s making a face at me over there so I should probably get back to the shoot... it’s actually a really important photographer we shouldn’t upset, but... let’s meet up later! Dinner? It’s been so long! Here—”

Yaku felt Lev pull his phone from his pocket—he'd never changed his habits and Lev somehow remembered which pocket—maybe it was a lucky guess—and then Lev was typing into it. Oh,  _ this  _ is why people locked their phones behind security codes... Yaku had never bothered and now he was paying for it.

“I added you on LINE and swapped contact information, so I’ll call you later!”

Yaku nodded mutely as his phone was gently handed back to him.

He was staring past Lev at a frustrated camera crew who were in turn staring back at him in similar bewilderment. It’s not my fault, he wanted to say, but deep down he knew they somehow understood. 

Lev gave Yaku’s arm one last squeeze before he headed back over to his crew—god, this meant he was a professional model, didn’t it? A full minute later, Yaku had still not moved an inch. 

Somewhere in the distance, he heard the faint sound of a volleyball hitting a gym floor and a whistle blow.

“Oh wow, he was telling the truth,” he heard Sakai say.

“See if you can find any videos from when he was at Kyoto U,” he heard  Tomisaki chime in and that snapped him out of his reverie. 

He snatched Sakai’s phone away and sped off in a direction—he didn’t much care which way he went—and the two immediately followed, firing off question after question about Yaku, about volleyball, about Lev...

_ I should’ve accepted Kai’s invite _ , Yaku thought miserably.  _ I should’ve gone to Tokyo for the weekend, I should’ve gone to see everyone else. _

He’d run away from the reunion only to come face-to-face with the precise person he’d been trying to avoid. Karma was a bitch like that. 

===================================   


As promised, Lev sent an invitation to dinner (drinks, really) just as he said he would—he'd always been good about following through on his promises. Not like Yaku. Lev clarified in a manner that was meant to be reassuring that it was a Wrap Party, with plenty of other people around so that Yaku needn’t fear being alone with him the entire time. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. Alone with Lev would’ve been daunting, maybe, but a party full of strangers where he would be the odd one out brought different concerns. Who was he supposed to talk to, if not Lev? Or worse, if the afternoon was any example, complete strangers might take an interest in him just to get more information about high school Lev, and he’d hate that line of inquiry for at least two reasons.

Yaku frowned at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for not providing answers. He should fall ill or break an arm—a lot could happen in the span of a few hours that would preclude him from accepting this invitation. But... But Lev had seemed so genuinely glad to see him, despite how he’d wronged him. If Lev could be gracious enough to not hold any grudges from five years ago, then didn’t Yaku owe him this? This courtesy? They didn’t have to bring up the past if they didn’t want to, they really could just... catch up with one another as two adults. Maybe they could really put the past behind them for good. Closure. That was something Yaku wanted very badly, if he thought about it. 

He gave one last huff at his reflection before resolving to go out after all. 

Lev hadn’t specified a dress code, so Yaku had erred on the safe side and opted for business casual, but he’d clearly overdressed. Or rather, he just looked too much like a salaryman compared to the people he saw going in. But, well they were models, so it made sense for them to look glamorous while still looking casual. Seeing a couple of women 180cm tall enter the bar ahead of him, Yaku felt increasingly out of place. 

The doorman raised an eyebrow at him, suggesting in his stoic silence that Yaku either needed to go inside or move along. 

“I’m... um. Yaku Morisuke. Haiba Lev invited me.”

Without a word, not even a bow or a smile, the man opened the door for him to gesture him inside. Yaku disliked the attitude, but he supposed he was a little out of his depth here. This wasn’t his world.

The pounding music began pulsing in his ears once he was inside, getting steadily louder as he went down the winding stairs. One last door stood between him and a wall of sound, and Yaku braced himself for the aural onslaught.

“Yaku-san! You came!!”

The second he walked in, he was accosted on multiple fronts as ear-splitting music slammed into his eardrums and Lev half-tackled him in another crushing hug. He smelled of alcohol and cigarette smoke—not at all what Yaku remembered from high school. 

“Your first drink is on me, come on!” Lev insisted, pulling him to the bar. “What’ll you have?”

“Uh... a beer!” Yaku shouted above the noise, although thankfully the area around the bar was the furthest away from the speakers. He hadn’t missed that several heads had turned to stare at him after Lev’s greeting. 

“It’s a fully stocked bar if you’re feeling adventurous!” Lev winked.

Five years had taken Lev from a boy to a man Yaku barely recognized. This handsome, smooth-talking charmer was not the simple-minded _kouhai_ he remembered. 

“Oh... kay. Then what do you recommend?”

Lev leaned over the counter with a grin and waved at the bartender. “A white lion please!”

Yaku raised an eyebrow. “That can’t be a real drink.”

“I’m trying to show off, Yaku-san, don’t ruin the mood!”

Yaku looked him up and down, fashionably dressed  with purposefully styled hair and even a little makeup... he blended seamlessly into their glamorous company. The years had added a little ruggedness to his jawline and broadness to his shoulders. Despite his idiocy, Lev had always been charismatic in his own way, and now that trait had become very well polished indeed. He didn’t need to show off, Yaku was already starstruck. 

When his drink came, he took a cautious first sip.

“!!”

It was spicy and sweet, and lingered in his throat after he swallowed. Lev watched him expectantly.

“It’s good,” he said finally.

“You like it!” Lev beamed. “You don’t get flavors like that from just beer.” 

Yaku took another sip to urge a little more alcohol into his system. Not quite for liquid courage, but more... social lubricant. Especially since he could see someone approaching them from across the dance floor. He recognized her as one of the women he’d seen outside. 

She draped an arm languidly around Lev’s shoulder and gave Yaku a picture perfect smile.

“Lev, who’s this? Introduce me!”

“Oh Saya! This is Yaku-san. He was my  _ senpai  _ when we were in high school, and I just happened to run into him earlier during a shoot so I invited him so we could catch up.”

Yaku gave a bow. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you!” She moved from Lev’s side to Yaku’s and grabbed his arm in a gesture Yaku found overly familiar for a first meeting. “ So you know all about Lev when he was a baby!” 

Well he’d expected this. “High school, so I wouldn’t say ‘baby.’ I can’t even imagine what a humongous baby he must have been. He was already over 190cm tall when he entered high school.”

Saya reached to brush aside a stray bit of hair from Lev’s face and added, “Well right now I think of this cutie as a  _ boy _ , so when you knew him Yaku-san, he’d be the equivalent of a baby.”

Lev gave an embarrassed laugh. “Saya, don’t tease... And try not to make Yaku-san uncomfortable.” He pulled lightly on her slim wrist.

She pulled it playfully away and instead wrapped her arms around Yaku’s shoulders, staying stubbornly put. All Yaku could think to do in the situation was freeze in place. Eyes wide, he wasn’t sure where else to look except at Lev.

“You’re just trying to keep your handsome  _ senpai  _ from me!” she laughed. 

With her proximity, it was her breath that gave it away. Of course, Yaku thought. She’s drunk and she doesn’t think of me as a big, threatening man. And to be fair, she was at least a whole head taller than he was. 

“Saya...” Lev’s tone was getting exasperated now.

She turned to face Yaku instead. “He’s always so stingy and serious... was he like that in high school too?”

“Ha! Uh... not exactly.” Yaku raised an eyebrow at Lev, and the gesture asked about a dozen questions. 

“Saya, I think I hear Miki calling for you,” Lev said quickly.

She pouted, but she let go of Yaku at last, holding onto his arm for one last, “Well it was very nice to meet you, Yaku-san. I hope I see you again so that I get to interrogate you more about  _ baby  _ Lev.” 

Then she planted a very long kiss on Lev’s lips before sidling away into the crowd.

Once she was out of earshot (in a loud bar, this distance would be about two feet away), Lev bowed and apologized.

“Ah... sorry about that. Saya always comes on a little strong.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Yaku could only assume based on the way she’d—

“Sort of,” said Lev.

“Sort of?!” 

“Well we’re not exclusive... a lot of people aren’t in this industry—ow! Yaku-san, you  kicked me !”

“Old habits die hard, I guess!” Yaku chugged down the rest of his drink, his throat burning. “Well haven’t you done well for yourself!” 

It was ridiculous, all of it. Lev lived in practically another dimension now, and it suited him perfectly. The hair, the clothes, the beautiful women... The only reason Yaku couldn’t reasonably be jealous was because none of this would ever be attainable for him in a million years! Nor did he care for it! But for Lev? He was right where he belonged.

Yaku felt something in him break, an old blockage of pent-up guilt and shame, and it all came rushing out now in the form of uproarious laughter. His stomach hurt, he hadn’t laughed so hard in years.

“Yaku-san?”

He took another appraising look at Lev; yes, his beloved _kouhai_ was perfectly well-off now. He hadn’t ruined anything for him. He’d been right to walk away all those years ago. 

“Are you all right?” Lev was getting very concerned now.

“I’m glad!” Yaku barked. He meant it. A part of him felt like he was in high school again and it felt great. “Lev, you’re doing great, I’m happy for you!” 

Lev’s eyes shot toward the bartender. “I wonder if he made your drink too strong...”

But Yaku clapped a hand on Lev’s shoulder. “Listen. I know I was an awful  _ senpai  _ to you. I’ve always felt bad about that—”

“Yaku-san, you weren’t—”

“ So seeing you like... this... I’m relieved!”

Lev’s eyes dropped to the counter between them. “I always worried that you hated me. I always caused so much trouble... Even today, I know I came out of nowhere and forced you here.”

Yaku blinked. The alcohol was starting to  hit and Lev’s self-awareness was entirely unexpected. That and he’d always assumed that Lev had understood... 

“Lev, I’ve never hated you. Believe me.”

Yaku held out a hand for Lev to shake. “Let’s put all that in the past and let bygones be bygones. Friends?” 

Lev brightened and took Yaku’s hand in a surprisingly firm grip. He nodded so fiercely he essentially rearranged his hair. 

“Ahh...” Yaku leaned back and sighed, his eyebrows furrowed. “Man, but seriously! Models are something else, huh? I feel overwhelmingly average in here...”

“What are you saying?! You’re adorable, Yaku-san!”

He made a face at the well-meaning compliment. “You know, most adult men don’t really want to be called ‘adorable.’” 

“Well I... I can make some introductions, if you want,” Lev said hesitantly.

“Ah...” Yaku looked around, remembered what Lev had said about Saya, and said, “No thanks. I don’t do flings. Or... open relationships...”

“That’s very like you,” Lev smiled. “I think when you finally choose someone, they’d be very lucky to have you.”

Had Yaku been less tipsy, and had the bar not been so loud, he might have heard the wistful tone in Lev’s voice in that moment. Instead, he let out a barking laugh and said,

“All right all right, no need for the flattery. I was going to buy the next round anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @avcd0 on Twitter also drew a lovely art for Ch. 1 that you can find [Here](https://twitter.com/avcd0/status/1245937829554708480)  
> 


	2. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lev has one more day to burn in Kyoto before heading back home to Tokyo, and he wants to make the most of it.

Yaku awoke the next morning with a sore throat, dry mouth, and a pounding headache that made the morning light exceedingly painful. He hadn’t had a hangover since college. 

“Ugh...”

He rolled over sluggishly and stumbled out of bed toward the kitchen for a much-needed glass of water. But all physical ailments aside, he honestly felt better than he had in years. The power of reconciliation, he guessed. 

As if predicting his next thought, his phone buzzed from where it lay on the desk (near death because he’d forgotten to plug it in), and he unlocked it to find several messages from Kai. He’d sent him photos from the Team Reunion he’d missed out on; they’d had a  fairly good turnout. Yaku found himself smiling at the album as he flicked through the photos. It certainly looked as though everyone was doing well. He began texting back. 

Wow,  Kenma really let his hair grow out, didn’t he?<<

>>Too lazy to cut it, Kuroo says.   
>>We missed you. Kuroo and Shibayama in particular were asking about you.

Sorry I missed it.<<   
Funnily enough, I ran into Lev here in Kyoto yesterday.<<

>>Really???

He’s a professional model now, if you can believe that.<<   
He was in the middle of a photoshoot when we crossed paths.<<

>>Wow, what a small world...

A small world indeed... Yaku had thought he’d been doing so well, hiding himself away in Kyoto and acting as though his entire life was nothing but misfortune and tragedy. But he’d always had friends he could have turned to had he bothered to look and ask. It was a sobering realization, and since he was on something of a roll...

Hey Kai, I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit friend.<<   
I know you’ve always been trying to look out for me.<<   
I really appreciate it, and I should have said.<<

>>No apologies needed. Just come visit sometime.

I will. Next vacation I get.<<

Golden Week would be coming up in just under a month, Yaku thought. He could go to Tokyo for several days and see his friends and placate his parents and—

His phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lev. 

>>Yaku-san!!!   
>>I go back to Tokyo tomorrow and I have one day left in Kyoto to go sightseeing.   
>>Are you free? Can you show me around?   
>>Maybe something you haven’t seen already so that it’s new and exciting for both of us! I don’t mind!!

Dimly, Yaku recalled that Lev had had much more to drink last night than he had, and if the excessive exclamation points were accurate indicators of his energy and mood this morning, then Yaku was already annoyed that the giant seemed impervious to hangovers. It had to be because he’s enormous, Yaku decided. They were only two years apart in age, that couldn’t make that much of a difference. But more importantly...

I’m kind of useless as a local guide.<<   
I haven’t been sightseeing once since I moved here.<<

>>Yaku-san!!   
>>You need to be more adventurous!   
>>What do you even do with your free time then???

Yaku pouted at his screen. He didn’t have to put it like that, even if he had a point. 

Fine, fine!<<   
But me coffee and pick something outdoorsy to do and I’ll meet you.<<

He wrote ‘outdoorsy’ only because he didn’t trust his addled brain to be able to handle any museums or educational excursions that required heavy thinking. Not to mention the fresh air and exercise would do him some good, he decided. A nice walk through a park or some temple grounds maybe. He dug through his closet to find some of his old athletic wear and running shoes. They were old and hadn’t been used since college, but still in decent condition. 

>>Then... Meet me at Arashiyama Station!

Well that was fast. Yaku was a teeny bit concerned not knowing exactly what Lev had chosen but he’d left it up to  him so it was too late to complain now—beggars and choosers and all that. What was even around that area anyway? The only thing he could really bring to mind was the Arashiyama Monkey Park...

Lev was waiting for him at the station entrance with cups of coffee in hand, and a backpack matched with a coordinated track  suit .  Somehow he looked fashionable even for a random day-hike—like an athletic ad. Like when you flip through a magazine catalogue and there’s a spread with some ruggedly handsome man breaking only enough sweat to look like he’s putting in some effort but not so sweaty and red-faced so as to be unappealing, with somehow still perfectly styled hair and some outfit that screamed fashion  _ and  _ function and fitted the model to a tee, but would never look as good on anyone else who bought the exact same outfit. Yaku wasn’t exactly jealous... just a little frustrated. 

When he approached, Lev unexpectedly held out both coffee cups.

“I realized that I don’t really know how you take your coffee, and I really should’ve asked, but by the time I thought to, I was already at the counter, so I have one that’s straight black and the other’s a latte.”

Yaku looked between the cups before putting his hands on his hips with a frown. “I only drink unsweetened soy, chilled, no ice.” 

“Ehh!?!” Lev wailed, and finally he looked just a teeny bit less cool.

Yaku burst out  laughing.  Maybe it was a little bit mean, but it was reassuring to know he could still make Lev sweat. “I’m kidding!  Gimme the latte, I didn’t have breakfast so the milk will be good.” 

“Well that’s no good,” Lev pouted. “I guess we’ll need to grab some snacks at Kiyotaki then.”

“Kiyotaki?” Yaku repeated. So he’d been wrong about the Monkey Park hypothesis. 

He let Lev lead the way to the bus stop a little ways from the station where they boarded the 94 bus to Kiyotaki, a sleepy little village twelve minutes away marked with a red  _ torii _ gate. 

“So what are we doing here then?”

“Climbing Mt. Atago!” Lev beamed. “You said ‘outdoorsy’ and Kuroo-san once said that you like hiking in the mountains ‘like a weirdo,’ his words not mine, and this one looked challenging when I looked it up.” 

“...Challenging?” Yaku gulped. He didn’t really want to admit how out-of-shape he was compared to the last time they’d seen each other. 

“It’s about 4km round-trip,” Lev seemed not to notice Yaku’s unease. He pulled out his phone, made a face at some of the recent texts he’d gotten, then pulled up the browser he’d been using to search. “Don’t the views look amazing?”

“Uh... sure...” he couldn’t disagree but, “Well, let’s see how far we get.”

“All the way to the top!” Lev had a suspicious gleam in his eye. “I have water in my pack, we can buy snacks and bento before we start, and then we’ll climb! Don’t make that face at me, Yaku-san, you’re the one who taught me I should always give it my all.” 

Well sure, Yaku thought. That’s the sort of thing upperclassmen  are supposed to say to set a good example—he didn’t mean for it to bite him in the ass later. He’d also need to punch Kuroo the next time he saw him, so he filed that away. 

Two hours and countless stairs later, Yaku had really no idea how far they’d gone or how far they had left to climb, but he was drenched head to toe in sweat, his heart was pounding out of his throat, his thighs were burning, and he’d gone through about three bottles of water—the water that Lev was effortlessly carrying as extra weight while skipping on ahead. 

“Yaku-san!” Lev made his way back down to him on a light jog—he'd run on ahead for a bit to scout the course. “There’s a viewing area with benches just a little further up, and we can have lunch there!” 

It would  _ really  _ help, Yaku groaned in his head, unable to spare his breath for talking, if Lev could stop being so goddamn chipper and  _ young  _ about it. Yaku didn’t answer, just nodded and trudged onward, swearing over and over that after this he’d start a regular exercise regimen again. He’d gotten complacent just because he wasn’t overweight, but his high school self would  definitely be ashamed. He’d do better,  _ be  _ better.  He’d do it out of spite, if nothing else! 

“Oh, wow...”

The words escaped him regardless of his need for oxygen. From the viewing area they could see all of Kyoto sprawled beneath them, small and far away. Maybe this was why people always recommended getting out and reconnecting with nature. Getting away from civilization and seeing it from a bird’s eye view made all his other problems seem smaller too. He could maybe see the office where he worked, knowing its general vicinity. And somewhere on the far side of the city from where he stood, behind the Imperial Palace was Kyoto University—where he’d felt his life come apart around him a few years back, but none of that really seemed to matter anymore either while standing here. 

“Yaku-san, let’s eat!” Lev had secured a bench and patted the space next to him. He still had visible energy left to spare, and only the lightest sheen of sweat that made him look dewy and refreshed instead of blotchy red-faced and wheezing. 

Yaku plopped down next to him with a sigh. “You need to stop looking like an Adidas ad.” 

“Oh, have you seen it?” Lev passed him his food.

“Seen... it?” 

“I’ve done ads for Adidas before,” said Lev casually, too casually. “That’s where I got this tracksuit from, it was complimentary. Sometimes they do that depending on the product.” 

“Well that explains a lot,” Yaku didn’t really have the energy to be surprised. 

Lev’s pocked buzzed. It had been doing that a lot today. Swiping away another message, he added, “I’ll send you the photos I’ve been taking while hiking.”

“You know, your phone’s been going off a lot this entire time,” Yaku noted, snapping apart his chopsticks. “You’re not playing hooky on a shoot to hang out with me, are you?”

“N-no...”

“Liar.”

“I’m not!” Lev huffed. “It’s just Saya. She’s annoyed that I’m not spending the day with her on our day off.” 

“That seems like a reasonable complaint from your girlfriend.” 

Lev sighed. “I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. And anyway, we work together a lot, and I haven’t seen you in years! Since you don’t live in Tokyo, I won’t have that many chances to see you, doesn’t it make sense to prioritize that? I think a reasonable partner would be more understanding.” 

He stuffed half a rice ball into his mouth, eyebrows knitted together as he furiously chewed. 

Yaku felt he’d hit something of a sore spot and silently nibbled away at his lunch. Despite being the  _ senpai _ , this was the one key area of life in which he sadly had zero experience and consequently no advice to give. 

“That’s a fair point...” he supposed if he had a partner, he wouldn’t begrudge them leaving him for a day to catch up with an old friend. 

“She’s honestly the most demanding person I’ve ever slept with,” Lev continued, ignoring the way Yaku choked on his food at the phrasing. “She’s the one who insisted from the beginning that we keep things open, but she also acts like she’s still allowed to monopolize me. Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

“Uh...” Yaku opened his mouth and closed it again. 

“If she wants us to be exclusive or whatever, she should say so. But that means she’d have to give up all her other boy toys too, and that’s asking too much, apparently.”

“W-well...” Not only did Yaku have zero experience with relationships, this was so far beyond normal he doubted anyone could really help unless they also kept this kind of company.

“But everyone in the industry is like her to some extent,” Lev sighed. “The women, the men... everyone just wants to mess around. That or no one wants to take me seriously. You saw how she kept saying I was a baby—Yaku-san, do you need more water?” 

Lev pulled another bottle out of his backpack to pass to Yaku, who had inhaled more than the recommended human amount of rice into his lungs. He had hoped chewing would be an excuse to keep quiet, but that had been presumptuous. 

“Sorry. I’m rambling...” 

“No! Well... yes,” Yaku coughed and patted his chest. “Sorry, I’m a bit useless with this, but I have zero dating experience, so—”

“Eh?” Lev’s eyes grew so wide, they unnerved him. “Zero? Never? With anybody? Not even like a short experiment with anybody—you're joking!”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended right now.”

“Well it’s just...” Lev bit his lip. “I thought you didn’t want to accept my confession because maybe there was someone else. Or well, that’s what Shibayama said to me once to make me feel better, because the alternative was just that maybe you hated me.”

“I already said last night I’ve never hated you.”

“Or I suppose the simplest answer is that you’re  straight .”

“You really just say anything and everything without holding  back, don’t you?” Yaku sputtered. 

“If it’s about love or romance, isn’t it something everyone can relate to?” Lev said plainly. “Everyone wants to be loved. Men, women, or other... gay, straight, or... just—everyone! Even if everyone plays around in this industry, that’s still what we’re looking for. I think. Some of us at least. Maybe.” 

“I really can’t argue with that,” Yaku said eventually.

He still didn’t feel like he could admit why he hadn’t gone to meet Lev that day on his graduation, but he felt like he needed to offer something.

“Lev, I’m going to tell you something and if you tell anyone else, I will track you down and murder you, do you understand?” 

“Well now I’m not sure if I want to hear this,” Lev inched away.

“I’m not entirely straight.”

“Oh,” Lev relaxed. “Well that’s not anything to keep secret—”

“And my first high school crush was Kuroo.”

The noise of shock that escaped Lev was so loud, it shook the birds from the trees and echoed against the mountainside. It rippled through the air and Yaku began to fear that somehow Kuroo had managed to hear it five prefectures away. 

“So that’s your type, Yaku-san?!” 

Too tall, idiotic,  middle-blockers who drove him insane? Apparently yes. Yaku was only just realizing how much of a masochist he was deep down. This must have been why he’d never really wanted to think about it too hard. Realizing the similarities between Kuroo and Lev was like holding up a mirror to his soul, and the reflection was too much to bear. 

“That was years  ago , and I learned my lesson!” Yaku punched  Lev’s arm.

Lev’s phone buzzed again, startling them both, but Yaku had now found that certain words had come to him. 

“You know... not that I know anything about your industry or the people in it, but... do you think maybe she’s being unfair to you because she’s scared? Of like, being vulnerable?” He knew a little what that was like, at least. “Maybe she’s hoping that you let her monopolize you without complaint to show her what she means to you, and then she’ll... return the gesture? I don’t know, it’s just... she’s really been messaging you a lot today, and I don’t know if anyone would do that if they weren’t at least a little bit serious about you. If she just wanted to mess around, couldn’t she find someone else to spend time with for the day? If you really like her, you might need to make that more clear, and maybe... talk things out.” 

Lev went silent and looked out at the view over Kyoto rather than look Yaku in the eyes. His expression was unreadable, and Yaku was afraid he’d overstepped.”

After some time, he finally said, “Yaku-san, you really are a romantic. Someone really needs to grab you up soon.”

They finished the rest of their lunch far  far away from the topic and finished the rest of their climb in triumph. Yaku felt so high on the accomplishment, he even indulged Lev wanting to take several selfies together. He’d wanted to quit an hour in, but Lev had pushed him to keep going, so he deserved to be allowed to smash their sweaty heads together for a disgusting photo, he supposed. By the time they made it all the way back down the mountain, it was late afternoon, and they were both starving and exhausted. Even Lev was at last showing signs of fatigue. 

“Ahh... this was good!” Yaku admitted on the bus ride back as he punched his limp legs. “It’s been a long time since I really did anything with my free time. I forgot how good  it feels to be sore all over.” 

“ So I did good?” Lev looked at him expectantly, looking fifteen all over again.

Yaku wondered if Lev would ever stop acting like an underclassman wanting praise and affection for his good deeds and achievements. maybe he’d been too much of a demon  _ senpai _ and had accidentally conditioned Lev to be this way around him. Or maybe this was just Lev. He did know other silver-haired idiots who constantly needed their egos boosted, after all. 

He nodded and confessed quietly, “After I quit volleyball, nothing else seemed any fun. And then I guess I just got... lazy.” 

Lev fiddled with his hair, trying to think carefully of what to say next. 

“Maybe I can start getting out more by going hiking on the weekends,” Yaku thought aloud. “There’s plenty of spots around Kyoto.”

“You should text me every time you go!” Lev beamed. “You don’t have SNS Yaku-san, and I want to know what you’re up to! Either make  an Instagram or promise me you’ll text at least once a week with something.” 

“Lev, I don’t even talk to my mother that often,” Yaku laughed.

“Come on, Yaku-san! Please?”

The big idiot was pouting  now, and batting his eyelashes in what was surely a trained model’s method of seduction, and Yaku couldn’t exactly fight it. “Fine, fine!”

“And let me know the next time you’re in Tokyo!”

Yaku suddenly felt he understood what it must be like to have that nagging partner Lev was complaining about earlier. 

“Golden Week,” he promised without thinking. His mouth had started moving before his brain had really made the decision.

“Okay!” 

Lev smiled wide, pure unadulterated joy in his deep green eyes, and Yaku wondered absentmindedly how often he looked at Saya like that.

Parting ways back at Arashiyama Station, Lev was restless and fidgety—like a child that didn’t want to go home just yet at the end of a fun day. Just a little longer, his expression screamed. 

“Dinner and a drink?” he offered. “My treat!”

“I have work tomorrow, Lev,” Yaku reminded him gently. And after exhausting himself, Yaku felt he would need about twelve hours of sleep he wasn’t going to get. “But thanks for today. I’m... I’m  really glad I ran into you like that yesterday. This has been really great, reconnecting like this.” 

Lev bit his lip, nodding but obviously holding himself back from saying something else or pleading with Yaku again for just a little more time together. Instead he managed a quiet, 

“I’m really glad too. I guess I’ll... see you during Golden Week then!” 

Yaku nodded. “Have a safe trip back tomorrow. Tell the others I said hi.”

They parted and went their separate ways, though goodbyes were certainly more fleeting in the days of modern technology. Lev texted him during his entire commute home, forwarding all the photos he’d taken, as he’d promised. There were some beautiful vistas that Yaku had missed in his taxing struggle up the mountain, and some sneaky photos of himself he hadn’t realized Lev had been taking. 

“Cheeky bastard...”

He saved the entire album to his phone and then  opened up his phone settings for the first time since buying the thing to set his lock-screen wallpaper as one of the selfies they’d taken at the summit. It felt like an overly sentimental thing to do in all honesty, but he was rather full of emotion today. Maybe it was from getting that blood pumping through his veins again just like old times. Maybe it was from all the deep and heartfelt conversations they’d had in the middle of nowhere up a mountain. Maybe because he felt redeemed somehow, seeing Lev and seeing his smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be social distancing in my home, but they don't have to. I may or may not have written them going hiking because I'm a little stir-crazy and it was kind of fun looking up climbing views around Kyoto (I've only personally hiked up Fushimi Inari). 
> 
> Thank you everyone who's read Chapter 1 and left a comment, excited to read more! It's a lot more motivation than you realize~  
> I'm overwhelmingly flattered by all of your support.


	3. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking back is hard, but sometimes you have to so that you can finally look forward.

“You know, Yaku-san, you seem much happier lately,” said Sakai, narrowing his eyes over his cup of coffee. “Did something good happen? Like maybe... a girlfriend?” 

“What?! Did I hear that Yaku-san has a girlfriend?!” 

From across the floor, Tomisaki came rushing over to the break room, ears impeccably attuned to potential gossip. He was ready at any moment’s notice to drop everything and give attention to a hint of a rumor; it was the most stereotypically Osakan thing about him. 

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend, keep it down!” Yaku growled, though with only about half the usual amount of menace. 

Tomisaki grimaced mostly on reflex—he'd already learned that Yaku was mostly bark with very little bite (much to Yaku’s consternation) and that he mostly needed persistence dealing with his little outbursts. In the worst-case scenario, he might get a little kick for his prodding, but his shins could take it. “It’s true, you have been nicer though.” 

“I started hiking on weekends,” Yaku admitted finally. It wasn’t anything worth keeping secret anyway. 

“Oh I see... working out your aggression with exercise then?” Tomisaki pressed. “That makes sense. Do you have pictures? Where have you been so far? Any recommendations?” 

The truth was that he only half-believed Yaku’s claims. But if he could convince him to pull out his phone to show a photo or two, he might catch a sneak peek in the gallery some hidden photo with a girl or glimpse a notification of an unanswered text message with flirtations laced between the lines. 

But Sakai laughed. “Tomisaki-kun... just because he’s eased up a little bit doesn’t mean he’s become a totally different person. Don’t bother him too much.” 

But Yaku had already pulled out his phone. “My high school _kouhai_ does the same thing. I must be getting used to it again. Here, this was from Inari Fushimi this past weekend.” 

He passed the phone over to show them several shots of faded red _torii_ stretching far up a mountain train, dozens of little shrines built into the rocks, and a shot of Kyoto from an outlook a little more than halfway up the peak. Not a female companion or unanswered message in sight. Of course, had he a little more creative imagination, he would’ve thought to pay more attention to all the saved photos of that one _kouhai_ they’d met in passing weeks ago. 

Tomisaki’s shoulders slumped, but he still managed to be impressed by the landscape pictures. “I’m a little surprised you got such clear shots. When I went, it was packed with people.” 

“I went around dawn,” Yaku explained, a smile tugging on his lips as he remembered waking Lev with his texts and photos. The brat had been the one to pester him for frequent updates in the first place, so Yaku hadn’t felt guilty in the slightest. 

The other two groaned. 

“I’m all for getting out more, but no thank you to getting up before dawn to go hiking,” Sakai pinched his nose. 

“Yeah, but Yaku-san used to be an athlete!” Tomisaki put a thoughtful finger to his chin. “I couldn’t find as many videos online from Kyoto U though...” 

Yaku flinched at the mention of his alma mater and scowled at himself. Sure, maybe he’d never meant to go pro or to try and play for his entire college career, but he would’ve liked for the choice to have been his. And even more annoying than the accident, it was even more aggravating to know that he still wasn’t over it. He held onto things for too long, he knew. Guilt, grief, regret, longing... It had taken a surreal, in-his-face reunion with Lev to put _that_ history firmly behind him. 

“You sound like a stalker. And anyway, I didn’t play as long in college,” was all he said. “I have about a dozen claims to finish up; I’m getting back to work.” Thankfully, there was always more work to keep him occupied. 

Just as he resettled at his desk, his phone buzzed with a photo and a text from Lev. The photo was of a gleaming fancy watch on Lev’s wrist with a brand name Yaku recognized just enough to know what the general price tag on it might be. 

>>I’m modeling a few watches today that cost about half my year’s salary... 

Yaku understood the appeal of a nice watch in theory, he supposed, but certainly not at price points like that. He texted back. 

Do they really need people to model watches like that?<<

>>For fancy magazine ads, yeah. 

The next photo was of a photo from the shoot, (possibly the one they’d chosen, possibly just one of the test shots) featuring Lev in an impeccably tailored tuxedo, handsomely adjusting his tie. With the placement of his hands and the angling of his wrist, the watch did take center frame quite nicely, but Yaku’s focus was inevitably more drawn to the man wearing the gaudy thing. They’d given Lev a smart, slicked-back hairstyle for The Look, highlighting the cheekbones that were normally hidden by his long bangs. Yaku sighed to himself. Two weeks ago, he’d told Lev that he wasn’t completely straight when the truth was that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a genuine crush on a girl, and he got gayer and gayer with every handsome photo Lev generously shared on a near-daily basis. 

>>So do I look cool? 

Yeah yeah, you’re so cool, I’m jealous!!<<

>>It’ll be motivation then! Have a good day at work, Yaku-san!!! 

Well, the little interlude had been better than reminiscing about Kyoto U, Yaku had to admit. Beyond all expectation, Lev’s regular messages did tend to cheer him up considerably. Maybe because he so often sounded like a cheerleader encouraging him along his ordinary day. At first Lev had only texted once every several days, but encouraged by Yaku's regular rate of response, he'd increased it steadily (not _that_ steadily) such that they were now texting every day. He expected Lev's texts now; he looked forward to them, though he'd never admit it. Sakai had been right—he was, in fact, happier lately. And apparently it showed. 

Afraid that the Universe might wrench his newfound contentment out from under him if he got too comfortable, and because his co-workers had unwittingly wrenched open that old wound... Yaku decided it was time to take action to mitigate a certain situation he had largely ignored for years... by visiting his old university that weekend. But it wasn’t just a gesture of metaphorical self-flagellation; he could just stay home and wallow for the same effect. No, like with Lev, he needed to put the accident behind him mentally as well as physically or risk being emotionally stunted all the rest of his life. He had enough of that going on just naturally. 

On a weekend, the campus had less than half the usual number of students wandering around, young and bright-eyed and looking only toward the future—Yaku was annoyed almost the instant he set foot on the grounds again. Unsurprisingly, he found the gym occupied with weekend practice drills, and his muscles felt sore just remembering the intensity of his first week at practice. 

Peeking in, he saw giants scattered about, rotating between rounds of serves, receives, and various other calisthenics mixed in at other stations. Their coach (as spartan as Yaku remembered) circled around them, whistle permanently lodged between his teeth as he corrected players’ forms and repeatedly demanded some degree of _better_. Stronger, faster, higher, cleaner, whatever it took. 

Maybe Yaku would never miss the strenuous training or the deafening yelling in his ear, but he would always miss playing. He missed his team and having those connections. 

As if sensing his growing melancholy, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and Yaku knew it was yet another message from Lev—no one else ever contacted him even half as much. 

>>Where are you hiking today, Yaku-san?? 

Sorry to disappoint, but I’m just wandering around my old University campus today<<

>>Oh are you meeting up with college friends? 

What an innocent question, Yaku mused. He pulled up the keyboard several times, typing nothing, locking and unlocking his phone over and over. He debated lying, and just saying sure, he was meeting up with his old team for lunch and laughs... But a part of him really didn’t like lying to Lev. So he said instead: 

Missing volleyball.<<

>>...that’s very masochistic of you. 

Reliving the memory was painful, true, but it had lost much of its sting. And nothing after had ever felt as horrible as the moment itself. Yaku had known in the instant when he put his foot down wrong, before the pain had shot up his leg, before he collapsed onto that orange court mid-game—he'd known his days of playing were over in that agonizing half-second when the world had stilled. 

The same ankle that he’d sprained in high school had shattered, crushed under the full weight of a falling teammate and braced only by his own shaky footing. The pain had been excruciating as his teammates had dragged him off the court and to a hospital, but the physical pain only accounted for one tear out of many. 

And then he’d been trapped in a cast for two months, then a brace, then physical therapy, and by the time he could walk again unhindered by crutches or other medical paraphernalia, the only place left for him to go was across the stage at commencement. Many around him at the time had called that a victory, but it had all felt so hollow to Yaku at the time when all he wanted was to get back on the court beside his teammates. He went through the motions and finished school and graduated with honors, and he barely remembered any of it. 

>>Yaku-san, I have a confession...   
>>I saw that match that day. The one where you got injured.   
>>I was in the audience with Shibayama and Inuoka, and I really thought about going to see you in the hospital.   
>>I really wanted to.   
>>I’m sorry I didn’t. 

Yaku stared at his phone in shock. Even with the tournaments being held in Tokyo, he’d had no idea that his _kouhai_ had gone to see his college matches, let alone the one that changed his life forever. He’d always assumed only Kai and Kuroo knew the specifics of why he’d stopped playing and fell out of touch. But maybe they all knew, and there was no one from whom he could hide his shame. 

It was a real low point for me, Lev<<   
I don’t think I would’ve wanted you to see me then<<

>>I sort of figured that would be the case.   
>>But I still really wanted to be there for you, Yaku-san.   
>>We all did.   
>>Do you wish it had all turned out differently? 

Of course, Yaku thought immediately, bitter tears stinging his eyes even now. Of course, he wanted to turn back the clock on that catastrophic accident, that maybe he could’ve been scouted and offered the chance to go pro and then rub Kuroo’s face in it. Yaku had played for most of his life, ever since his hands were big enough to hold a ball, and then years of work and love had all been robbed from him in an instant. Who wouldn’t want to wave a wand and magic it better? Who could possibly think that he’d just accepted it and moved on without a trace of regret or lingering sadness? 

Everyone, that’s who. 

Because Yaku had never voiced his agony, and because no one had ever asked. And if they had, he would have shut them down and turned away, because there was nothing to be done and it was all out of his control so what was the use in crying about it? 

Except he’d wanted to cry about it. For three years, all he’d ever wanted to do was have a proper cry about it, instead of just going numb like he had. 

>>Yaku-san?   
>>I’m sorry. That was an insensitive question, wasn’t it? 

Of course, you idiot!<<

>>I’m sorry.   
>>Are you crying? 

It was extremely annoying that he could somehow know without seeing him... and deeply unfair that Lev seemed to have him all figured out despite all the years apart. Yaku sent an annoyed emoji for lack of anything better to say—he'd neither confirm nor deny the crying. But the incoming messages only made the tears flow more readily. Lev wasn’t exactly letting up, and Yaku couldn’t seem to just put his phone away. 

>>Yaku-san, you’ve always been so passionate and strong-willed.   
>>That’s what I remember best about you, not necessarily your volleyball.   
>>And I know that’s because I sucked at it.   
>>Like I remember you looked really cool playing it, but I don’t remember your exact technique or anything...   
>>Anyway, I just think that you can do anything if you put your heart into it, Yaku-san.   
>>The _senpai_ I remember is invincible. 

Yaku sniffed. The Lev he remembered had always been simple, but it had been his mistake to think that simple meant the same thing as stupid. Lev was direct and honest and always meant what he said. Once upon a time, it had been why Yaku had fallen for him despite his attempts not to. Lev was a wonderful, uncomplicating force that blocked out all the white noise of his own restlessness... and capable of surprising him every now and then. 

“Invincible,” Yaku repeated to himself. 

Yes, he’d felt invincible once. On the volleyball court. Nothing had ever quite measured up since those days. He’d been Lev’s demon _senpai_ once, and had been proud of it too, but now he was a washed-up has-been drifting through life half-alive, but... But still... he would certainly like to feel invincible again. 

He pulled himself away from the gym doors, away from the sounds of crashing volleyballs, and away from the past. He would not find the key to his resurrection here. 

>>Yaku-san?   
>>Did I say too much again? 

No, it’s fine<<   
Thank you, Lev<<

He meant it too. Even if it would still take some time for him to get entirely over his life’s disappointments, it was heartening to hear that Lev still believed in him and saw his merit off the court. There was more to him than just being an excellent libero, and one day he’d believe it too. Yaku supposed that day could only come sooner with Lev buttering him up constantly. 

>>Will I still see you for Golden Week? 

I promise<<

After all, another one of his long-time regrets was not going to meet Lev that day after school. He wouldn’t do that to him twice—and anyway, this time would be as friends. 

Just friends. 

Yaku sighed. He had a sudden urge to ask how things were going with Saya, if Lev had taken his advice and patched their relationship into something more serious... or maybe he had moved on to someone else now since that seemed to how that world worked. He wanted to know, but he also really didn’t. It wasn’t his business, he reminded himself. That glamorous world was beyond his reach, and Lev was a part of that world. 

As he walked on, he caught sight of his reflection in a window and paused to consider it—his posture, his hair, his clothes... he’d frozen in time since his accident without realizing it, and if he really wanted to move on with his life, a change of style wasn’t a terrible place to start. Having to look at Lev’s frequent glamour shots had made him give some consideration to his appearance again. 

He straightened up a little and pulled on his fringe. A haircut and some new clothes, he decided. Maybe some new hiking shoes if he wanted to get serious about doing that regularly. Why not treat himself a little? Lev got to wear designer watches; he didn’t need to feel bad about spending his own hard-earned money. 

Fueled by a sudden new boldness, almost spite, Yaku marched off the Kyoto University campus to head to Kawaramachi, determined to look _good_ for when he went to visit Tokyo for Golden Week. It was almost petty, this sudden desire to go home and show off his glow-up to everyone who’d worried about him, but it was motivation too. 

_I’m okay!!!_ He wanted to scream it without saying it aloud—he'd will it into reality. 

It was easy enough to get a trim even without an appointment, since he didn’t need anything overly styled or trendy nor was there any need for bleaching or color. It was basically the same style he’d had in high school, though he let it grow just a bit longer on top. Professional enough for work without looking middle-aged, and he had enough length to style it a few different ways if he wanted to put in more effort. 

Shoes were more fun. He was a little overdue for new loafers for work anyway, but the real treat was getting to browse through a selection of hiking sneakers. They were all much thicker and more rigid than the old volleyball shoes he was used to, with firmer grip in the soles, and they certainly all looked rather... rugged. The main downside to hiking shoes seemed to be that it was a tad difficult to find the style in brighter colors, which was ultimately sensible. They were made for use on dirt trails and in inclement weather, so lighter colors would be soiled almost immediately. Eventually, he settled on a pair that were a lovely shade of forest green. 

But the clothes... 

It was a challenge for which Yaku felt woefully unprepared. For any one shoe store there were ten stores for apparel (and thank goodness he wasn’t shopping for women’s clothing otherwise it’d be thirty-to-one), and unfortunately, here he lacked a clear goal. He didn’t have much of a sense of style, so to speak, and he sure as hell didn’t know what was supposed to be trendy. He wasn’t really sure he liked what was trendy, either, since Yaku was seeing a lot of mannequins with very baggy pants and oddly long cloth belts. Being a bit shor—vertically challenged—Yaku had always shied away from styles where his clothes would drown him. But after wandering over an hour and getting absolutely nowhere, he was tired and just wanted to go home. His newfound motivation just didn’t extend to shopping. Twenty-four? He might as well be forty-two at heart. 

After taking refuge in a café with a sandwich and a coffee, Yaku began browsing through men’s fashions on his phone and tried to compare it to the people he saw walking about. Truth be told, there wasn’t a whole lot of overlap between his search results and what people were actually wearing. Maybe because he lived in Kyoto, or maybe because fashion was bullshit. 

As he continued to scroll past entire galleries of above-average men trying to model ‘unique’ fashions for the average man, it occurred to him suddenly that the internet was a remarkable and powerful tool... and that he’d yet to use it to google Lev and his modeling profile. 

Hunching over in his seat slightly, he typed Lev’s name into the search bar and found an agency profile among the first results, after Lev’s own social media links. Being a model, his profile not only listed his height, but also the measurements of his chest, waist, hips, and also his weight and body fat percentage along with his shoe size. Yaku made a sour face—did _all_ that information really need to be public knowledge? Why would anyone else really need to know his shoe size? Which was, by the way, ridiculous, and Yaku couldn’t recall the last time he’d ever even seen that number in a shoe store. Reading the stats made him feel like an unwilling stalker, and he hunched forward just a touch further lest anyone see... anything. 

He half wondered if this was appropriate. Sure, Lev frequently sent photos of his own and none of this would be public if he didn’t want it to be, but... something about googling him like this felt just a bit off. 

Then again, Lev had never told him that he had known about his accident for years, and that also felt like a slight breach of privacy... he would justify it to himself somehow and tapped on the Portfolio button. Up popped a gallery of about forty photos, all making Lev look absolutely stunning—which was rather the point. From perfectly tailored suits and coiffed hair to hoodies and ripped jeans, from runway high fashion to swimsuits, Lev pulled off anything and everything. Yaku made himself scroll just a bit faster through the shirtless photos since those were making him feel wholly inadequate and also a bit... um... 

Yaku glanced around him in the café and then cautiously crossed his legs. 

Retreating into his own phone’s gallery, he re-examined the goofy selfies they’d taken together weeks ago—this was true casual instead of the fabricated casual of his model shots, and Yaku furrowed his eyebrows at the goofball grinning back at him. His model photos all looked so serious by contrast. Purposefully alluring, fierce, sensual—they all portrayed a Lev he’d never seen, and he had seen Lev get fairly intense before (only in volleyball games, mind). Yaku looked again at the model portfolio and felt a little like he was being lied to—the Lev he knew was attractive, sure, but with much more heart. At the same time, Yaku was also immensely curious to see this side of Lev in action if he could. 

Hmm... 

He grimaced again—his coffee was cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;D


	4. Rejection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've adjusted the fic tags to include general Nekoma cast (people will pop in and out here and there), and original characters. Still undecided about that Slow Burn tag...  
> This chapter does contain mentions of disordered eating. It's not a lot and mostly toward the end. Lev does work in the modeling industry, after all.  
> This chapter is from Lev's point of view, to show us a glimpse of how he felt being left behind, and how difficult it can be for anyone to let go of their idealizations of a person.

As soon as Lev entered the café, he looked around for Shibayama, because it didn’t matter if rain or shine, whether Lev was running late or early, Shibayama _always_ arrived first every time they agreed to meet. If Shibayama ever failed to arrive first, Lev would probably take it as a sign of the end times. And sure enough, he found him in the back corner, reading a book quietly. 

He made his way over and took his seat and saw that his friend had ordered for him too. Lev checked his watch. 

“You’re not late,” Shibayama smiled, not even looking up from his reading. 

“Around you, I’m always late,” Lev grimaced. “Here, _omiyage_ from Kyoto.” 

At last, Shibayama found a good stopping point and closed his book after inserting a tab. 

“Ooh, thank you!” He accepted the package without opening it. As much as he knew Lev’s tastes enough to order for him when they met up for coffee, Lev knew his tastes as well. He put the parcel into his backpack. “Still sorry you missed out on the team reunion. How was your shoot with that famous photographer?” 

Lev froze as his brain flashed back to that moment under the blossoms when he’d first caught sight of Yaku-san. The shoot had been going on for hours by that point, he’d been hot and sweaty—kimono weren’t as fun to wear as they were to look at—and his feet were sore from being crammed into _geta_ that were two sizes too small. He’d just had his make-up touched up for about the third time, his pores begging for sweet release underneath all the caked-on layers. They’d skipped the lunch break because the lighting was too good to let pass (Lev hated outdoor shoots). He hated being at the mercy of the sun and the weather, he hated the gawking from passerby whenever they picked more popular locations... until that passerby had happened to include Yaku-san. And then suddenly all of his discomfort evaporated, replaced by an excitement that took over before the rest of his brain could even think to calm it. In the middle of his adrenaline rush, he’d honestly forgotten about the graduation day rejection. 

He turned to Shibayama finally and said, “I... ran into Yaku-san.” 

“What?! Really?!!” 

“Shh!” Several heads had turned to glare at their outburst. 

“Sorry! Sorry, but that’s just...” he lowered his voice now to an unnecessary whisper. “Did you know he was still there and go looking for him or—” 

“He was just walking by,” Lev said stone-faced, staring into his latte. “Our shoot was outside and at one point when I looked up, he was just... there. Staring at me like he’d seen a ghost.” 

“What did you do?” Shibayama was on the edge of his seat now, leaning forward, his lips stretched into a thin line and poised absolutely still. He had to respect the tension in the air. 

“I...” Lev fell forward onto the table and suddenly buried his face in his arms. “Agh... I just ran over and hugged him without thinking about it!! I literally acted like _that day_ never happened—and to be fair, I did actually forget for a minute—and I just approached him like we were old friends and nothing awkward had ever happened between us, and I tried to act cool in front of his work colleagues and...” 

Shibayama patted Lev’s elbow sympathetically. He expected nothing less of his big, bumbling friend. “Well... that does certainly sound like something you would do.” 

“Don’t make fun of me, Yuki,” came Lev’s muffled voice. 

“And? How did Yaku-san react?” 

Lev slowly sat back up, still pouting. “It was actually really hard to tell at that moment, so I just grabbed his phone, put my number in it, and invited him to our wrap party.” 

Shibayama’s eyes grew wide. “Oh. Wow. Well I suppose you’ve always been a bit... bold.” 

“And then he came! I really wasn’t expecting him to. I’d been sitting at the party trying to figure out how to invite him again, or whether or not I should call him, and Saya kept bothering me about dancing—” 

“Is it Saya now?” A little crinkle appeared between Shibayama’s eyebrows. “What about Miki?” 

“Miki was just one time,” Lev waved a hand. “Anyway, and then Yaku-san came, and we had drinks and just... patched things up and sort of agreed to let bygones be bygones. He said he didn’t hate me.” 

“I always said he didn’t hate you, you just wanted to be dramatic about it,” Shibayama clicked his tongue. “Did you ask him why he...?” 

“No, I couldn’t work up the nerve to ask about it directly,” Lev groaned. “And I was really trying to be cool, and even the next day when I invited him to go hiking, I couldn’t really...” 

“Wow, you really made good use of your time, didn’t you?” 

“Yuki, what do I do?” Lev wailed. “I don’t... I don’t think I ever really got over him and now we’re talking again.” 

Shibayama nibbled at the corner of his sandwich. “You could try to be a little less of a drama queen about it. And also remember that you’re seeing someone already.” 

“Yuki, you know that ‘seeing someone’ is a bit of an exaggeration.” 

“You’re always on-again, off-again with her,” said Shibayama. “You’re either going to marry each other or kill each other within a year while the rest of us die alone.” 

“Yuki, trust me, you don’t want to date a model,” Lev said in his serious voice. If he was ever going to be a wingman and set Shibayama up with somebody, he wanted it to be someone who would treat his friend right and be a good person, and he just couldn’t say that about most of the people he met in his line of work. His little friend was too wholesome and sweet to fling to the sharks. 

“I’d like the chance to make that mistake for myself one day,” Shibayama quipped. “And anyway, Yaku-san said no to you, sort of, five years ago. Why do you think you’d have a better chance with him now?” 

“...because I’m older and better looking now?” 

Lev struck a little pose where he sat and earned a glare from his old teammate, who absolutely could not be charmed by his wiles. Not anymore anyway. Too many years together. 

“You look mostly the same Lev,” Shibayama sighed. “And older didn’t make you that much smarter.” 

Lev mimed an arrow striking his heart and threw himself back in his chair, clutching his chest, his face scrunched in imaginary pain. All these former liberos with sharp tongues, how they all so loved to wound him. 

===== Five years ago ===== 

“Graduation huh...” Shibayama muttered to himself quietly. 

“I can’t really imagine the third-years leaving!” Inuoka sighed. “I mean, obviously they have to. We can’t just stop them going to college.” 

“Maybe it’s because we’re first years,” Shibayama added. “It’s harder for us to imagine a different team for Nekoma. But next year we’ll be upperclassmen and we’ll have new first-years, and then it’ll be a little easier. Maybe.” 

“All of us as upperclassmen, what a scary thought,” said Teshiro. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that responsibility...” Inuoka laughed nervously. “First-years looking up to us and all that...” 

“Anyone has to look up to look at you and Lev,” added Teshiro. 

“Lev?” 

“Huh? Wh-what?” 

“You’re spacing out more than usual,” Shibayama furrowed his brows in concern. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Oh... yeah... just thinking about the third-years graduating...” 

He’d always struggled with fully understanding the consequences of... well, anything really. The reality of the third-years graduation was only now hitting him like a sack of bricks flung at his head in slow motion. He’d known it was coming, it was inevitable, but he’d still failed to react in any way to help brace for the impact. And the worst part of it was that Yaku-san had gotten accepted to some university in Kyoto. 

Kyoto! People didn’t move _out_ of Tokyo, they moved _in_! Yaku-san wouldn’t just leave their team and their school, he’d leave the city entirely, and that would make it indefinitely more difficult to stay in touch. Lev had seen how difficult it was for his mother to stay in touch with relatives in Russia, and Kyoto was just as far away as the motherland to his sixteen-year-old brain. 

Kuroo-san and Kai-san were staying nearby, why did Yaku-san have to be the only one to leave? Lev wanted more time, he wanted... 

Across the courtyard, he saw Yaku-san walking out of the gym, and something compelled him to run over to him immediately, ignoring how the others yelled after him. He didn’t have time to think, he didn’t have time for anything anymore—he only had today. 

“Yaku-san!!” 

“Lev?” Yaku stopped and laughed a little at how much Lev had exerted himself. He didn’t really need to sprint. 

“Um! I...” Lev stammered, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly as the words he wanted failed to materialize. Normally he just said whatever he wanted; it didn’t bear much thinking about. But this was important! He needed to not say the wrong things! 

“Today is your graduation...” he said quietly. 

“Yeah... did you only just realize that?” Yaku raised an eyebrow. 

“No! Well... yes. Sort of. I...” Lev began wringing them hem of his blazer in place of being able to squeeze his brain. People always told him to be more thoughtful, and this must be why, Lev cursed at himself. 

“I’m... I promise that I’ll keep working on my receives.” No, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all. 

“You better!” 

“And also...” 

Desperately he looked from his feet to Yaku-san’s face and saw a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes. He had to know what Lev wanted to say, didn’t he? Lev had never exactly been subtle... Couldn’t he throw him a bone? Meet him halfway? 

“Spit it out!” 

Lev jumped, but only slightly—Yaku-san was almost making the same face he was. He wouldn’t make this easier for him, he never did, but that was why Lev needed him around. No one else before had ever worked him so hard and then pulled out the best in him. Lev had been coddled and spoiled by his entire family, and they were wonderful and he appreciated their support, but... there was a difference between allowing his failures and believing that he could honestly be good enough to avoid failure. People tolerated him because they didn’t think he could do any better, but Yaku-san had always pushed him because he really believed he could. That Lev was capable of more if he just had more discipline. And Lev was so so grateful for that, but he didn’t know how to say any of it. 

“Can you meet me behind the gym after school?” 

He needed to do this right, he decided. He’d take the afternoon to prepare and plan ahead for once. He’d write all his thoughts down on a piece of paper if it helped, and anyway, wasn’t after school the traditional setting for these confessions? 

“Why don’t you say it now, whatever it is?” 

“It has to be after school!” Never mind that Lev himself had only decided that about a second ago. “That’s the traditional setting!” 

Lev imagined he saw Yaku-san fighting a smile, and it had given him such a foolish hope. Had it been wishful thinking? Had he simply tricked himself into thinking there was the possibility of Yaku-san returning his feelings? He couldn’t remember anymore. 

“Behind the gym!” he shouted, feeling a familiar, baseless confidence that made him prone to embarrassing himself. 

Lev spent the rest of his day writing and rewriting what would become his dramatic confession speech. He had to make sure to mention what a positive influence Yaku-san had been on him, of course, and how he appreciated the scolding and the pressure and the attention... how he admired Yaku-san's spirit and tenacity and his confidence (a confidence he could back up). He also repeatedly wore the word “cute” in the margins of his notes and also repeatedly crossed it out... he knew Yaku-san would hate to hear it, but it didn’t stop Lev from thinking it. Yaku-san was cute like a cactus was cute—all barbs and threats on a first look, but also occasionally accented with bright, inviting flowers if you caught one at the right time. When Yaku-san smiled, he bloomed, and whenever Lev saw those smiles, he felt all the more like the impatient gardener, knowing that too much water and attention would kill the cactus, but still desperate to be near it and provide for it somehow. It helped to prick himself on the thorns over and over to remind himself not to smother it. 

And then he waited after school, behind the gym and beneath the cherry blossoms, a picture-perfect setting, as if the Universe was smiling down on his efforts, giving him its blessing. As he waited, Lev adjusted his hair, his posture, anxiously turning his head toward every passing student below a certain height, eyes peeled for that short, peachy-blond hair. He went over his notes over and over, memorizing them, forgetting them, and re-reading them in a vicious cycle that did nothing for his nerves. He tried to wait in a cool, dashing pose, and when he started to get sore standing as still as a statue, he began pacing back and forth, then pacing around the gym’s perimeter, just in case Yaku-san was waiting behind a different corner. Maybe he hadn’t been clear about being ‘behind the gym,’ or ‘after school,’ or maybe... 

It was only when the sky turned orange as the sun began to set and a school staff member told him to clear out so that they could lock-up would he accept that Yaku-san had rejected him. 

His Yaku-san, who’d normally always been there... 

Even after Lev was made to leave, he lingered around the school gates until it grew dark and the street lamps came on, hoping that maybe Yaku-san would realize his mistake and come rushing back to the school like they do in dramas. 

When his phone rang, he nearly dropped it in his frenzy to answer it. 

“Yaku-san?!” 

“Lyovochika?” 

His heart sank. “...oh. Hi Alisa.” 

“Are you going to be out to dinner with friends? Can you at least let mama know where you’ll be?” 

“...no,” Lev sighed. “I’ll be home soon.” 

“Oh! Well all right, see you soon then!” 

And then Lev trudged home, dragging his feet and fighting back tears. He got home and cried and wailed into his sister’s arms that he’d been rejected by his first love, and Alisa stayed beside him on the couch all night to watch sad movies and eat ice cream and promised that Lev would find other people in his life, because he was a catch and adorable and tall. Lev loved his sister, but he couldn’t help as though those were all very superficial qualities to find appealing about another person. 

Lev’s sadness eventually became anger, then resentment. He felt he’d been betrayed, but still also believed that Yaku-san wouldn’t do that to him without good reason. And so resentment circled back to quiet longing, because he just couldn’t bring himself to hate his beloved _senpai._

Later in their second year, his teammates would suggest they go watch their _senpai_ play in a couple of university matches from time to time, and he couldn’t exactly say no. It didn’t hurt to go see Kuroo-san or sometimes even Bokuto-san (unless he was in a high-fiving mood). Kai-san was often in the stands with them to cheer. 

It was the fact that Lev kept skipping out on Yaku-san's matches during the All-Japan Intercollegiate Championship that drew Shibayama’s particular attention. In yet another embarrassingly emotional outburst, Lev told Shibayama all about his failed confession attempt, his lingering heartbreak, and why the last thing he wanted to see was Yaku-san play again, because there would be no doubt that he’d look cool and strong just like how they all remembered him, and Lev would be unable to stay mad at him (it was already difficult to keep that rage going); he’d just fall for him all over again, and he might be an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. 

Shibayama had been surprisingly understanding, and Lev had adored him for that, just not in the same way he had adored Yaku-san. It was why they would always be close friends even as their lives went in rather opposite directions as time went on. 

===== 

Lev looked at Shibayama now, sitting across the table from him, the picture of an ordinary college student, going to classes, his backpack full of books, and Lev was glad for him. Glad that his life had been relatively uneventful by comparison. He wasn’t sure if college could’ve ever worked out for himself, but it was a perfect fit for his friend. 

“Hey Yuki, do you remember that one game we went go see? The one where Yaku-san broke his ankle?” 

Shibayama looked up, eyebrows raised so high they disappeared into his bangs, blinked a few times to try and discern Lev’s real question, then looked back to his coffee. 

“Yes, I remember,” he said carefully. “I still don’t think—” 

“I should’ve gone to see him.” 

“To do what?” Shibayama reminded him, exasperated. “He had his teammates and his family with him, and we would’ve just been in the way. Or you would’ve made it worse.” 

“Maybe I could’ve made it better.” 

“You don’t know that. Anyway, why are you bringing that up now?” 

“Yaku-san is still upset about that day,” Lev confided. “He still thinks about it, and he still misses volleyball, and when he admitted that to me, I just... really regretted not being there for him. Even if he wouldn’t have wanted me there. I think he suffered a lot without telling anyone. That’s why he fell out of touch with everyone and stayed in Kyoto.” 

“Lev, where is all this going?” asked Shibayama, concern growing in his eyes. “We can’t turn back time.” 

Lev ran his thumb over the rim of his coffee cup, staring into the murky black water and wishing it were a mirror into his mind. He always had such trouble following the trains of his own thoughts, they often went off-track and further than any intended destinations. 

“Nowhere,” he said at last. “I just couldn’t help thinking about it. Hindsight 20/20 and all that. But you’re right, we probably weren’t in any position to help.” 

But he was now. Maybe. 

“Be careful, Lev,” Shibayama warned. “I worry when you think too much.” 

Well that made two of them. 

===== 

When Lev got home in the evening, he found Saya asleep on his couch, jacket still on and her purse strap still loosely slung over her shoulder. Lev recalled that she’d mentioned an overnight shoot in Yokohama, probably staying up all night through the morning. Lev hated overnight shoots and avoided them whenever he could, but Saya never ever refused a job. She did anything and everything she was offered, and often ran herself ragged in the process. He admired her work ethic, but worried after her health. Their industry was often most unkind to those who gave it their all. 

Gently he shook her shoulder to see if she would wake, and when she remained fast asleep, he gently took her bag and set it on the table, and brought a pillow and a blanket from his bedroom to make her more comfortable on the couch. He thought about making some kind of dinner, but he wasn’t sure if it would be a fasting day for her, and he didn’t like the idea of her throwing it up after. 

Instead he sat on the floor by the low coffee table and pulled up his chat window with Yaku-san. He hadn’t checked it for the entire time he’d had lunch with Shibayama and he was proud of himself for his restraint. 

There was a series of photos waiting for him, starting with what looked like a brand new pair of hiking shoes, some nature shots, another vista of Kyoto from high up somewhere, and then the same shows now somewhat less-than-pristine. A single text bubble read: Mount Daimonji. 

Lev smiled warmly at the photos and replied, 

Those new shoes look very spiffy!<<   
Also you should take more selfies.<<   
How do I know you didn’t just steal these photos from the internet?<<   
You should take selfies when you get to the summit.<<

He was being cheeky, but the replies came sooner than he expected. 

>>That’s why I sent the pictures with the shoes. Ծ_Ծ 

Maybe you just walked around your neighborhood or scuffed them up in a park<<   
That’s not proof, Yaku-san<<

>>Suddenly you’re very mistrusting. ヽ(｀Д´)ﾉ 

I’m just trying to get you to send me more photos of yourself, Yaku-san<<

>>Is that a model’s way of thinking?   
>>To want to see pictures of people all the time? 

It’s more like a young person’s way of thinking?<<   
You just belong to our parents’ generation somehow<<

>>Shut up! (；¬д¬) 

Lev let out a quiet giggle, which stirred Saya awake behind him. She yawned and stretched and mumbled, “Hey you... sorry for passing out on the couch.” 

She reached out and brushed her fingers against the base of Lev’s neck, and he leaned away from her touch. It tickled, he said to himself. 

“It’s fine. How was last night’s shoot?” 

“Fine. Windy. Bad coffee. If they want to keep us up all night on a project they could at least give us better coffee.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes carefully, she still had traces of mascara on. “Who were you flirting with on the phone?” 

“I wasn’t flirting,” Lev lied. Okay yes, maybe he was flirting, but it wasn’t like Yaku-san could tell. Tree in the woods conundrum, if the other party can’t tell you’re flirting, does it count as flirting? 

“Liar,” Saya grinned. “That’s your flirty face. But whatever, don’t tell me if you don’t want to.” 

She shrugged off her jacket and found her way to Lev’s kitchen, rummaging around the pantries and fridge not necessarily because she wanted anything to eat, but moving around was helping her wake up. 

“Do you have anything in this kitchen besides protein shakes and power bars?” she mused. “You don’t even keep any beer.” 

“Don’t I have eggs?” Lev called over his shoulder. 

He texted to Yaku-san: _Make sure you eat well after your hikes! Go out somewhere. You should have restaurant recommendations ready for when people visit!_

He should enjoy food and eat well for the both of us, Lev thought miserably. Maintaining a model’s diet was harder than any practice drill he’d been made to endure in high school. 

“No eggs,” came Saya’s answer. “And eggs are protein too.” Eventually she settled on a bottle of electrolyte water, hoping it would help with her mild headache. “I got invited to another gig for some mid-size event in Singapore when I was chatting with the photographer last night. Runway, which I’ve been dying to do. You weren’t doing anything for Golden Week, right?” 

Lev almost dropped his phone. “Don’t tell me you signed me up too?” 

“No, I don’t have that kind of pull. I just said that if they needed more people that I might have some recommendations. Not that they listen to us. Why? Did you get a different job lined up?” 

“Well, no...” 

“Then come to Singapore with me,” Saya shrugged. “If they don’t give you the gig, at least for networking. If this one works out, we might get more runway work, and then we’d get to do a lot more travel, meet more people, maybe sign a contract under a specific brand... I thought you wanted to do that with me?” 

Ambition, Lev thought. Saya had the ambition for the work and for her position in the industry, and Lev... Well he suddenly had entirely new and different ambitions for his life. 

“I just... I had plans to meet with people.” 

“Lev,” Saya stared him down. Even half-asleep and in sweatpants, she intimidated Lev when she got upset or serious. “When are you going to start taking this more seriously?” 

“I do my job seriously, Saya,” Lev bit back. 

“Only when you feel like it!” she snapped. “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to turn down any job at this point, I had to practically drag you to Kyoto!” 

“When I accept a job, I do it seriously, but unlike you, this job isn’t my entire life!” 

A vein twitched in Saya’s neck, and Lev regretted his words immediately. He admired Saya’s dedication, he really didn’t mean to disparage her for it, but— 

“Who’s just fooling around now?” 

She stormed past to retrieve her purse and jacket and leave. 

“Saya, I’m sorry, I didn’t—” 

“You know, Lev, for people to commit to each other, they have to be going at the same pace.” She shuffled on her shoes and shot him one last scathing look. “Call me only if you can promise to keep up.” 

Then she slammed the door behind her, leaving Lev feeling rather chastened. 

He didn’t blame her for leaving. At age twenty-two, Lev still hadn’t learned how not to put his foot in his mouth, and Saya was not as forgiving as a lot of other people he knew. Shibayama had been wrong—they would never kill each other; Saya would emerge as the clear victor. If she ever did snap and kill him, Lev would be fairly certain he’d probably have earned it, and she’d be justified. 

His phone buzzed with another photo from Yaku-san, this time a picture of some ramen dinner he’d procured for himself on Lev’s advice, and Lev very nearly wailed out loud into his empty apartment. He missed Yaku-san terribly, and heaven help him, he also missed carbohydrates. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would rather people not hate Saya too much since I don't mean to write her as an awful person, but she is meant to serve as a window into some of Lev's character flaws, which means the two will be at odds often, and I would assume that most of us would be more inclined to side with Lev. But as Shibayama mentioned, there's a reason why they're so frequently on-again, off-again. 
> 
> Thanks everyone for all your feedback so far!  
> Sort of an informal poll, these two are obviously going to end up together by the end of this, but I don't know if people are like... hoping to read smut or not. I'll change the rating if and when a scene like that appears, but I'd be curious to know people's preferences.


	5. Retry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some content warnings for alcohol and drinking (nothing to the point of getting sick), and we get to see a couple other Nekoma cats!  
> And mentions of Kuroken.  
> And manga spoilers for the current arc since they happily tell us what adult Kenma is up to.

Yaku didn’t have siblings, but he imagined that having a rival close friend had to be the nearest equivalent for someone you cared about and were always secretly happy to see, but whose presence also put your entire state of being into Fight Mode. When Kai showed up to their lunch with Kuroo in tow (sneaky of him to not mention the additional person), Yaku felt seventeen again and ready to punch him in the face for no real reason other than it was great to see him.

What he didn’t expect was that Kuroo would come in immediately for the hug, wrapping Yaku in a hug so tight it knocked the wind out of him. He had dropped his guard—he just couldn’t have anticipated the hug attack. 

“Hey, it’s great to see  ya , you little shit!” Kuroo laughed as Kai took his turn for a hug (with a much gentler approach). “How long has it been? You’re looking good!”

“Not long enough, asshole!” Yaku grinned. “How is your hair still so stupid?”

“How is it that you still haven’t grown any taller?” Kuroo snipped back as a self-conscious hand drifted to his bangs. 

Kai simply smiled and began walking to lead them knowing they would follow even if they kept bickering throughout. It was refreshing and nostalgic to see them go at each other’s throats again, Kai mused. There was something heartening to know that some things would never truly change. 

And since Kai had foreseen how the two would behave (like children), he’d chosen a crowded family restaurant for their little  rendezvous so that they couldn’t really disturb the other clientele in the restaurant; nor would a server really need to worry too much about them, not when other families would bring actual children. 

By the time they were seated, the two seemed to have most of the initial round of jabs out of their system so that more civilized conversations could take place. Kai sipped at his coffee while the two got caught up—he'd kept in touch with both over the years and knew everything already—and thought how wonderful it was to have their little trio again... and what a shame it was that it had taken so long to reunite. 

“ So I’m just living the salaryman life with some hiking on the weekends,” Yaku sighed. “I have good co-workers, and not too much overtime depending on the season... and Kyoto’s a nice place to live.”

“Not too bored out there then?” Kuroo sneered.

“Kuroo, you live in the suburbs now, so you’re not exactly the image of a partying city dweller, either.”

Kuroo sighed and explained, “Kai has us both beat in his nice new high-rise apartment over  Shimbashi . But  Kenma wanted a spacious house somewhere quiet so that’s where we ended up.” 

It was only then that Yaku noticed the ring on Kuroo’s hand, glinting now as if to give him a wink and a nudge, drawing attention to a fact he’d long suspected. 

“You’re living with  Kenma ?” he said simply. It wasn’t a surprise, just a surprise that Kuroo would admit it so casually. 

Kuroo then waved his ringed hand in front of Yaku’s face. So much for pretending he hadn’t seen it. 

“ Happily engaged,  Yakkun ~” he sing- songed .

Yaku almost choked on his tea, his eyes flying immediately to Kai who simply smiled his usual, all-knowing and all-accepting smile. It simply said, well isn’t that nice? in the same way one might look up at a sunny day after several days of rain. 

“Well, as engaged as we can be, anyway,” Kuroo added, flicking Yaku’s nose once to bring him back from his shock before withdrawing his hand. “We can’t get a partnership certificate in our city yet. But you know... it’ll happen eventually. It’ll be country-wide at some point, and in the meantime, we’ve got basically everything else.” 

Yaku finally closed his mouth.

“I suppose we should be ready for your name change,” Kai thought aloud. “Do we call you  Kozume or Tetsurou?”

Yaku choked a second time on his tea.

“Why do you assume that it’ll be me changing my name? Maybe  Kenma would rather have my family name since everyone calls him  Kenma anyway,” Kuroo pouted. 

“But  Kenma’s name is on a  lot more official documents, I imagine that would be especially annoying to change. Between the house and Bouncing Ball and all of his investments, even his online fame...”

“Wh-what?” Yaku seemed to find his voice again.

“Bouncing Ball is  Kenma’s company,” Kai explained. “It’s a sports brand that he founded, he also trades stock, and wins all sorts of prize money as a pro-gamer.”

“Oh wow...” Yaku breathed. It was easy enough to imagine  Kenma doing  all of those things, but still very impressive. “I guess I’m surprised that he would take the initiative to start his own company of all things... doesn’t that mean he’s the breadwinner between you two?” 

Throughout Kai’s explanation, Kuroo’s expression had been one of pride, but now a vein in his temple twitched. “Yeah, so?”

“Well that’s a bit of a role reversal for you two, isn’t it? I’m so used to you looking after Kenma.”

“Hey! Believe me, I’m still looking after him plenty since he’ll go off and stream for hours without eating if I  didn't force food in his mouth at regular intervals. Yeah, he’s paying for most of the bills, but that’s about the only thing that’s really changed!” 

“Kuroo is very defensive about the importance of house-husbands,” Kai added.

“I’m not a house-husband, I do have a job!” Kuroo was fuming now, and it was honestly making Yaku’s day.

“Dude, I’m happy for you!” Yaku interrupted, having found his words. “Seriously, that’s... really brave of you guys. I’m almost envious.”

Kai and Kuroo looked at each other, then slowly turned to Yaku with matching raised eyebrows. 

“Envious?” Kuroo repeated, his eyes re-evaluating his old friend.

“Is there a special someone you’re not telling us about, Yaku?” asked Kai. 

“N-no! No, that’s not why—well, no! No, there’s no one!” Gosh, he sounded  really believable saying ‘no’ that many times. “And what about you, Kai?!”

“Methinks you doth protest too much,” Kuroo’s eyes went wide like a cat on the hunt.

“I don’t have anyone like that!” Yaku  shouted, and wished that he didn’t sound so pathetic. “I only meant that... that if I did have someone, and if it were a... he... a guy, that I don’t know if I could be that open about it.” 

And now he sounded like an asshole. But Lev and Kuroo were both so open, it sent Yaku’s head spinning to imagine that level of freedom, even between friends. He couldn’t even allow his feelings out to try a hidden type of relationship, and there had been opportunities presented in college... 

Kuroo whistled. “You were always so cool in high school, I had no idea you were so clumsy with love, Yakkun. That’s kind of adorable, honestly.”

“ Oh shut up,” he groaned. “You really wouldn’t know, would you?” 

“There’s really no-one you’re interested in currently?”

Yaku might have snapped again on reflex if the question hadn’t come from Kai, which was also unexpected. Kai had never been the nosy type before.

“Not... really...” he admitted shyly. If he couldn’t admit this to his two best friends, who on earth would he ever be able to talk to? “They’re kind of already involved.”

Suddenly Kuroo snapped his fingers and pointed dramatically, his finger hovering only centimeters from Yaku’s nose—clearly that was a habit he hadn’t been able to break from their teen years. “So there  _ is  _ someone then!”

But Yaku felt like he was having a stroke just imagining their faces now if he told them that it had been (and now might still be)  Haiba Lev. Kuroo would never ever let him live it down, which meant that he faced the interesting paradox of trying to convince his friends that he wasn’t trying to keep it a secret because he was ashamed of being gay, but that it was because it was  _ Lev _ . Oh no, that sounded worse.

“Look, they’re already involved with someone else. Not seriously, apparently... it’s complicated. But it seems kind of skeevy to make a move when—”

“Man, you just  gotta go for it!” Kuroo’s eyes were twinkling. “At the very least, let them know how you feel!”

“Are you not listening to the part where I keep saying that they’re not single?”

“You also said it wasn’t serious.”

“Kuroo, are you really in a position to give advice?” Kai smiled that warm, kind smile that promised an assassination. “After all, it was  Kenma who finally confronted you, because you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.”

As funny as that was, Kai’s smile gave Yaku goosebumps. His friend had apparently discovered his fangs while he’d been away, and Yaku could easily imagine Kai slitting a man’s throat with that disarming smile of his while the victim thanked him. He’d never seen Kuroo look so wounded without  Kenma being the cause. 

“Really glad Kai is here to keep you accountable,” Yaku laughed nervously, glad that he wasn’t the one being targeted. “Anyway, I want to hear more about  Kenma now, and everything he’s up to, jeez. Forget engagement, he’s a pro gamer?” 

“ Whoah whoah whoah ,” Kuroo held up a hand. “As thrilled as I would be to wax poetic about my beloved  Kenma all day—”

“Ugh, never mind,” Yaku rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable, I only want to know if Kai’s going to tell me.”

“What I mean is that you’re still not off the hook here!” Kuroo held up a finger at Kai who seemed about to  interrupt. “I won’t push to find out who this person is, if you met in Kyoto I won’t know them anyway—”

Yaku did his best to keep a straight face.

“—I want you to not be forever alone, so I need you to be more daring about this. What happened to all the guts you used to have?”

“Kuroo...” 

“Yeah  yeah Kai, I know you told me to take it easy on him, but that accident was years ago.”

Yaku blinked. If Kuroo had been ‘taking it easy’ on him so far, he was concerned what no-holds-barred,  provocation expert Kuroo was about to look like. He bit his lip, feeling the guilt low in the pit of his stomach. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. He knew Kai must have meant well, he always did, but the last thing Yaku wanted was for his best friends to walk on eggshells around him out of pity. He wasn’t a sad, broken thing... but he supposed that had been the impression he’d given in the past several years.

“Look, I don’t know what it’s like to go through that kind of trauma, and I’m sorry I wasn’t more help, but I know you’re not a pushover Yaku.”

Not for most things, no, but romantic feelings were proving an interesting hurdle.

“And you don’t do anything half-assed, so when you say you’re interested in someone, that means you probably like them a lot more than you’re letting on, yeah?”

“Kuroo!” Kai was possibly starting to  run out his infinite well of patience.

“It’s all right, Kai,” Yaku cut in. “It just wouldn’t feel like Kuroo if he didn’t piss me off at least a little. And annoyingly, he has a good point, even if his delivery sucks.”

They sneered at each other, and that made Kai relax a little. Seeing Yaku get worked up was reassuring. Yaku pulled out his phone mostly to check the time, although the idea to send a message was also definitely now in the forefront of his thoughts. 

“Are you going for it now?!” 

“No, I was just checking the time, idiot,” Yaku snipped. “And what kind of asshole confesses that sort of thing over text? While out at lunch with his friends? I only said that you had a good point, not that I was throwing caution to the winds.” 

“There’s a romantic in you somewhere, we just have to dig him out,” Kuroo smirked. “Do you have pictures?”

Kai seemed like he was about to scold Kuroo once again, but after a nervous glance, he mumbled, “I have to admit, I’m curious to see who this person is too.”

It was awful the fear and apprehension that immediately gripped him—a lifetime of repressing all hints of romantic feeling had left him incredibly unprepared for this moment, even in front of his two best friends who had accepted him for everything (including ditching everyone and going AWOL for years after his injury), he just... he just couldn’t yet. 

“Nothing against you guys, seriously, but...”

“Oh fine,” Kuroo sighed. “Keep to your usual privacy for now. Baby steps and all that.”

“Look, if it ever turns into anything, I’ll let you know who it is.”

Kai and Kuroo shared a look then beamed.

“Fair enough!”

“We’ll be rooting for you, Yaku.”

I’m in town<<   
Are you free this afternoon?<<

>>Yaku-san!!!   
>>Welcome to the big city!!

I was born and raised here, you idiot<<

>>I have a small fashion shoot this afternoon, but I can meet you for a later dinner.

Oh okay<<   
Yeah that’s fine<<   
Actually<<   
...would it be possible for me to come watch the shoot?<<

>>You... wanna see me in action?   
>>I think it would be kind of boring, but...   
>>I need to ask my manager if that would be okay but... probably?

“As long as we just wait over here in this corner, we’ll be out of the way and it won’t be a problem.”

Yaku nodded earnestly as Lev’s manager bowed nervously about three more times. “Right. Okay, yes. Thank you for this, I’m sure this is an unusual request...”

“Unusual? Not at all!” Lev’s manager, Suzuki-san, wasn’t much taller than Yaku, wore thick-rimmed frames, and was as jumpy as a stray cat. “Many people are curious about this line of work so visitors are  actually quite common... though, there are times when we try to limit them. His sister has come to spectate once or twice.”

“I’m sorry for the intrusion...”

Across the room, the stylist was putting the finishing touches on Lev, tucking in a few stray strands of hair, straightening his collar, adding a few accessories here and there including a ring and a leather bracelet. Yaku wasn’t sure he could sit so still with someone so close to his face and brushing repeatedly over his eyes.

“How long have you been Lev’s manager?” Yaku asked, hoping the conversation would keep him from staring too much.

“Oh about half a year, I think,” Suzuki mumbled.

“He’s only been modelling for half a year?”

“Oh no! I’m probably the third or fourth manager he’s had.”

Yaku made a face that must have alarmed the poor man, because he hurriedly added, “It’s not really any fault of Lev, please don’t misunderstand. It’s just how this industry works... managing a talent is a very demanding job, and we’re held to a high degree of responsibility by the agencies. Many younger managers don’t manage to stay around long.”

“That sounds... very stressful,” Yaku frowned. Nor could he really understand such a system. “Well if Lev is ever the cause of stress, please let me know and I’ll whip him into shape.” He wasn’t sure what in the world gave him the confidence to say that.

“Ah yes,” Suzuki laughed as if humoring a child. “Lev had mentioned that you were his  _ senpai  _ from volleyball.” 

The lights were turned down then in the room in favor of standing spotlights and umbrella flashes. Lev gave hem one last wave and a peace sign before stepping onto the simply constructed set area. The photographer took several test shots and examined them to adjust the lighting and his camera settings. Yaku already had spots in his vision. When the photographer gave the cue that he was ready, it seemed to Yaku that some sort of switch flipped in Lev’s brain. Hs posture shifted, his face became cool and expressionless, his movements careful and controlled and precise. Every part of his body had its designated place, a foot here, a hip angled one way, a dropped shoulder, a thoughtfully placed hand with long fingers purposefully stretched and held taut. Yaku’s high school memories conjured an image of Lev jumping with abandon, arms wide and waving (like that would block anything) and it clashed horribly with the Lev that stood before him now, who could turn and tilt his head a degree at a time based on the photographer’s instruction. 

As soon as there was a break in the flashes for more technical adjustments, the make-up artist swooped in to fix some invisible stray strand of hair that no human eye could see. Lev’s shoulders relaxed  instantly and he transformed into a docile kitten as he was re-groomed to perfection. At some point, Yaku realized his mouth had been hanging open slightly and he managed to close it just before Lev looked in their direction for another status update wave.

Then it was time for the fog machine and an additional colored  light and the shots once again began firing. After that, an outfit change, a minor set change, make-up adjustment, various props and accessories swapped and re-swapped, another outfit, another set, a different  hair-style , and Yaku was surely going blind from the flashes. 

He leaned over to whisper to Suzuki, “How long does this go usually?”

He checked his watch. “Most shoots run for one to two hours... depending on the project, of course. Runway shows are all-day affairs, even if a model might only walk the actual runway about three times. Today’s session should be... well it’s scheduled for three hours. And,” here he gave Yaku a wry smile. “And of course, they almost always run overtime.”

Right, Yaku thought. Those three hours probably didn’t include hair and makeup before and after, and what a world it would be if absolutely everything ran strictly on-time. Across the room, he could see Lev sweating under the lights, and some of the poses looked unnatural and possibly painful to hold for several minutes at a time. Obviously, he’d  never before given any thought to what modelling entailed, but it was turning out to be considerably more work than he expected. 

And Lev looked really good doing it.

“To be quite frank,” Suzuki leaned in, whispering now in low tones. “I think Lev is on his best behavior today with you here, Yaku-san.”

Ah, Yaku thought. There it  was; that sounded more like the Lev he knew. “Oh, is he now?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Solo shoots are often difficult for him. If they go too long, he loses focus and begins to have trouble taking direction. He’s always done best in groups or couple shoots. Or if Saya-san is watching.”

“He needs someone to impress,” said Yaku, nodding. “That’s an old habit of his. Saya-san, I see...”

Foolishly, Yaku had somewhat forgotten about Saya while being mesmerized by Lev. He supposed she’d be quite captivating herself in action.

“He does seem to like to impress his senpai,” Suzuki added. “At least, that’s what I think I’ve noticed. And I’ve heard how much Saya-san helped to train him. That was before my time as his manager, but I can see some of the influences in his style.”

Yaku took a page out of Lev’s modelling book and kept his expression as still as stone. It put an entirely different spin on things to know that she was his mentor as well as his partner. She’d looked after him and helped his career, hadn’t she? And she still could probably. Yaku was harshly reminded of his own inadequacies—he really had nothing to offer anymore, did he?

The cameras s topped snapping and the flashes stopped whirring and beeping. Suddenly, everyone was bowing and clapping and tearing down the set; the photoshoot was over. Lev shot them a thumbs up as he wobbled off the set, and Yaku and Suzuki returned it.

Then Suzuki turned to him and bowed. “It was nice to meet you, Yaku-san. Lev will be free to leave as soon as he changes and washes up, but I’m afraid I have some extra things to tend to. You can wait for him just over there, if you would.”

“Yes, of course,” Yaku bowed back nervously. “Thank you very much for allowing me to spectate today.”

Yes, he reminded himself. He was a spectator, an onlooker, someone from the outside looking in where he didn’t belong. Again, he felt like running far  far away, and he hated himself for his lack of courage. But he hesitated long enough for Lev to catch up with him before he surreptitiously disappeared. Lev’s face was now freshly washed and his hair stuffed into a cap, his clothing now comfortable sweats instead of a brand-name coordinate.

“Let’s go, Yaku-san!”

“Y-yeah... They don’t just let you leave with the hair and make-up on?”

“It’s a lot of makeup... trust me, nobody wants to leave it on.” 

Yaku shrugged and relented to Lev’s expertise. He’d never worn makeup before, certainly. He let Lev lead the way as they left, trying his best to push his doubts to the back of his mind and hopefully enjoy their evening.

It was dark outside the studio and with all the streets lit up, it wasn’t too different from the inside of the studio at a first glance. They moved through the alley streets into the main Shibuya thoroughfares, and Yaku took several seconds to adjust to the crowds and the noise. Kyoto could only compare to this on the busiest of matsuri nights in mid to late summer; he’d almost forgotten his dear city. 

“Are you staying with your parents while you’re back?” Lev asked suddenly, his voice cutting above the din.

“Yeah,” Yaku nodded, frowned at the honking cars, then raised his voice. “Yeah they’re sparing me the hotel costs since Golden Week shinkansen tickets were inflated. And they left my old room alone, pretty much exactly as it was when I left.”

“Oh, I’m kind of curious to see it,” Lev admitted. “Your high school bedroom, I mean. The things you grew up with, or how organized you might have been... I haven’t done much with my apartment since I moved out of my parents’ house. I’m not sure how much I like living alone.”

“Right, you weren’t an only child,” Yaku realized. Perhaps the transition to living alone was easier if you’d never had siblings, or maybe it just depended on how introverted you were. There were  siblings people couldn’t wait to get away from, surely.

“Do you like living alone, Yaku-san?”

“I’m... not sure I ever stopped to think about it,” Yaku admitted. “I guess I don’t especially mind it.”

Whatever loneliness he might have suffered in the past several years didn’t have much to do with simply having his own living space in the end. Tokyo itself was a bustling reminder: You could be surrounded by crowds of people  everyday , swarms pressing in tight, and still feel incredibly alone.

It then occurred to Yaku, as the two continuously drifted through that endless sea of faces, that he had absolutely no idea where they were going. 

“Lev? Where are we headed?”

“Eh?” They stopped suddenly.

“That’s a very good deer-in the-headlights impersonation,” Yaku frowned. “But don’t tell me it’s genuine. Where are you taking us?”

“Oh, I...” Lev let out a nervous giggle and took a cautious step back. “Oh I wasn’t paying attention, and I’ve been following you ever since you started pulling ahead.”

Lev had slowed his usual walking pace to avoid outpacing his shorter companion, and then they’d started talking, and Lev wasn’t yet one of those adults that could walk and talk at the same time and focus on where they were going. 

“Why on earth would I be leading?! This is your neighborhood, not mine!”

Lev took another step back and laughed. “You have a point! Sorry, Yaku-san, I got distracted. It was nice to just stroll and chat! But, um...”

He spun in place to get his bearings, determined that they weren’t lost, and then pulled out his phone. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Besides kicking you in the shins?”

“Now now, Yaku-san, we’re in public, and you’re an adult now. That sort of violence just isn’t cute anymore.”

Yaku was about to argue that he’d never once meant for any of his berating to come off as cute, even back in high school, but then Lev was suddenly walking again, seemingly with purpose now. Yaku had to jog slightly to keep up, which irritated him only a little. 

After all their wandering, they ultimately ended up at some hole-in-the-wall izakaya in some relatively dark corner of Shibuya that Lev insisted had great yakiniku and good alcohol (so the basics). If Yaku retraced their steps over the evening in his head, there had  definitely been some backtracking, retracing, and general meandering to get here, but he didn’t want to examine that thought  _ too  _ closely, lest it morph into an uncomfortable metaphor.

It was small and cramped inside even for Yaku, and the ceiling hovered only a few centimeters above Lev’s head. The smells were, at their base pleasant, but overwhelming in such close confined quarters. Half the staff greeted Lev warmly—he was obviously regular clientele, but it behooved Yaku how he’d even found such a place. Some secret hideaway for the  easily-recognized faces of Shibuya? Yaku knew how many entertainment agencies were based here. A place where a friend worked? An obscure recommendation perhaps from some trending internet article? A well-kept secret or an affordable dump? Across the table from him, Lev smiled at him brightly as they ordered, and Yaku found he barely cared. 

It was only when they were halfway into their solid food and solidly past three drinks each that Yaku seemed to realize that the surrounding tables all seemed to feature men. That in and of itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but after witnessing several  hand-holds and shy glances and surreptitious kisses, the scenery finally seemed to unblur in his drunken haze. That was the clarifying effect of the alcohol. Of course, now the question was... did Lev intentionally bring him here to such a place with hidden intentions or was it truly the closest place from after they had gotten themselves half-lost? What were Yaku’s intentions upon catching a glimpse of Lev’s? His earlier conversation with Kuroo and Kai had muddied things a bit... He still hadn’t come to grips with what he wanted, let alone what he wanted to do.

“ Y’know ,” Yaku mumbled halfway through his fourth beer. “You were really...” he gestured. “...earlier. At the shoot. I was impressed!”

Lev was drooping heavily over the table like a wilting flower desperately in need of water—the alcohol was hitting him harder and faster tonight since he’d been fasting for three days leading up to the photoshoot today. But he managed to perk up a little at the praise. “ Mmreally ? I was impressive?”

“Well I  dunno anythin ’ ‘bout  modelin ’ but... I thought  ya jus’ needed a handsome face was all. Maybe some good posture. I dunno. But it was... like... more.” Yaku spread his hands out to his sides to illustrate just how much more. “I underestimated your work.”

Lev leaned to one side—frankly, because he was basically incapable of sitting up straight at this point. “ Err’one does. Think  s’easy . Jus’ smile and pose... But it takes patience, Yaku-san! That was hard for me! And... and... p-pose. Poise!”

Yaku nodded solemnly. Every job had its difficulties, even the ones that looked easy.

“And when you’re new they don’t—you can’t say no to nothin’!”

He gave a nod to that too. Every job had a habit of overburdening the newbies, and at worst, there was hazing. Of course. Thankfully, his own company hadn’t been awful, but he had had upper awful  _ senpai  _ when he had first started at Nekoma, so he understood.

“And  ya gotta diet and exercise all the time... and if they want shirtless, I gotta fast and dehydrate for days!”

Yaku gave half a nod before the words made it all the way from his ears to his brain. 

“That’s...”

“My manager gets mad if I go a week without posting a selfie to my Instagram... I should have ten thousand followers by now! Or whatever... For what, anyway? I’m not famous or nothin’... Jus’ ‘cause of my face...”

“...”

Yaku was still stuck back on the fasting detail, but he also couldn’t imagine being forced to maintain a social media presence—he could barely be bothered to regularly text his friends. Not to say anything of the other... um, working standards. 

But before he could question them, Lev was calling for another round, of what, of everything, because he was ready to ‘gorge’ after a job well done. The staff of course generously obliged, cheering on their excessive drinking for another several hours until Lev was passed out and they had decidedly overstayed their welcome. 

Despite being definitely physically impaired by the drinks, Yaku still had enough presence of mind to think to dig through Lev’s pockets for his wallet, his ID, and a confirmation of his address so that he could get the incapacitated golem home.

“S’nearby,” was all the help Lev would give him, red-faced and eyes closed.

The staff were kind enough to help haul Lev’s massive frame to the door and balanced sideways over Yaku’s shoulder, and then they were set free into the wild like a hobbling gazelle with two of its legs tied together. 

“ S’nearby ” had been an apt descriptor, however unhelpful, as it only took them forty minutes to stumble the distance—Yaku imagined that it would’ve been only ten if they’d been sober and he wasn’t trying to carry a man twice his size. He gave silent thanks to the newfound strength in his hiking  legs, and tried very much to ignore how keenly muscled Leve felt under his clothes as their bodies pressed together. 

When they were near the end of their journey, Yaku came to the horrible realization that Lev lived on the third floor, that his building had no elevator, that half the lights were broken, and he hoped that Lev’s floor was at least clean, because that was absolutely where they were going to be passing out. 

Getting up to the second floor took considerable effort since Lev seemed to have forgotten how to lift his feet any higher than two inches off the ground, which worked all right for walking but worked considerably less for climbing stairs. Getting up to the third floor was marginally easier because Yaku had given up trying to be delicate and resorted to just kicking at his ankles to get them up. 

“So small but strong...” Lev had mumbled at one point, and the rage had powered Yaku up the remaining distance and somehow in past the front door. 

Lev’s apartment was small, so despite Yaku’s initial resolution to just dump themselves on the floor for the rest of the night, the bed was only a little further away so he trekked the several more steps to drop Lev onto a mattress instead of the floor. He was too nice for his own good, really.

The giant began sleeping almost immediately, and Yaku stumbled out of the room for a glass of water. He was half-sober from the exertion and drenched in sweat (not entirely his own). The sink contained the only two cups in Lev’s entire kitchen—it was  actually a bit alarming how empty all the cabinets were—and after a mild wash, he chugged about three full glasses of sweet  sweet tap water. Squinting around in the dark, Yaku decided he’d make do with the couch that blessedly existed, since he’d long missed the last train.

A soft voice called from the room. “Yaku-san?”

The big idiot is probably dehydrated, he thought, and he shuffled back only after he filled up the glass a fourth time. 

“Hey you big dummy,” said Yaku quietly as he encouraged Lev to lift his head a bit and drink.

“Yaku-san... you disappeared...”

“Only to the kitchen.”

“Thank you for getting me home...” 

Lev  definitely still sounded on the edge of consciousness, but his speech was less slurred. Possibly because he was now laying down and didn’t have to expend brain cells on walking, if you could call that walking. 

“Yaku-san, sleep here for the night...” 

He patted the five square inches of empty space beside him on the narrow bed, and Yaku bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Yeah, I’ll be borrowing your couch. Drink.”

“It’s funny seeing you in my room... I never imagined that could happen a year ago...”

“Yeah, life is funny like that,” Yaku agreed, absentmindedly reaching out to run his hands through Lev’s hair. He’d always wanted to do that, and half-drunk, he found that he could. He wished he could say that it was soft and silky between his fingers, but there was still a considerable amount of hairspray residue, and Yaku half-regretted his impulse decision. But it made Lev close his eyes and moan softly, and then he didn’t regret it quite so much.

Eyes still closed, his breathing now slow and deep and his cheeks still flushed pink from all the alcohol, Lev murmured one last, “I still love you, Yaku-san. I’m not sure I ever stopped.”

In the next instant, he was asleep, and Yaku, now  _ wide awake _ , reconsidered borrowing that couch.

“You idiot...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that this chapter came out May 1, 2020, and until sensei proves me otherwise, I'm going to assume that time-skip Kuroo is living with Kenma in his house and they are married (seriously, where is he).
> 
> Drunken confessions!!!
> 
> =====
> 
> @MohnNhom drew a beautiful comic version of the end of this chapter on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/MohnNhom/status/1347925860360196098
> 
> I also commissioned @krynl_ on Twitter for art of the last scene and you can find that here: https://twitter.com/Luna_Dreaming/status/1274751456952778752


	6. Reluctance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ill-timed interruption delays things...

When Yaku awoke to the sounds of Lev crashing about in the kitchen, a quick glance at his phone told him that he’d only managed about an hour and a half of sleep, and only when his body had given in completely to the alcohol and the exhaustion. 

“Mmfghgnn...” he groaned. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Lev paused briefly in his apparent dismantling of the kitchen. “Did you sleep okay? I know that couch isn’t super comfortable...” 

It could have been as soft as a cloud, and Yaku would still have woken up compromised. Bleary-eyed, he recalled how he had paced all night around the apartment, his thoughts running in circles as he debated between sleeping, catching a late-night cab and fleeing, hurling himself from the balcony, watching Lev sleep, and preparing a detailed script for the conversation they’d have to have in the morning. 

He shook his head in reply and instantly regretted the motion. 

“If you’re hungover, I have some electrolyte water and uh... turmeric. I already took a shower too if you wanted to do that. I don’t know if I have any extra clothes near your size that you could borrow though, unless you wanted me to pop out and buy some basics from the UNIQLO.” 

Yaku eyed Lev suspiciously through his mental haze. “You seem... overly chipper for someone who drank as much as you did last night.” 

“Do I?” Lev gave a nervous laugh. “But I have to admit, I don’t even remember us leaving the restaurant, let alone how we got back home. How did you know where I lived?” 

Somewhere in the depths of Yaku’s subconscious, glass shattered, sirens blared, his vision flashed red, the world ended, and he quietly replied, “I uh... I looked in your wallet for your ID.” 

“Oh that’s really smart!” Lev looked genuinely impressed at the incredible (and incredibly obvious) lifehack he just learned. 

Yaku almost wanted to cry as he shredded all of his mental notes for any Talk that might have been impending given Lev’s confession the night before. “So you really don’t remember like half of last night?” 

“Oh no,” Lev made a face. “Did I do something embarrassing? Do I need to apologize to the izakaya staff?” 

He knew Lev was an awful liar—or would be, if he ever tried. He lacked the guile to be anything but honest, which meant the big idiot truly did not remember his words, mumbled in his last moments just before losing consciousness. 

Yaku shook his head and forced a smile. “No, you big lug, you owe me for dragging your ass home! Especially up those stairs!” 

It’s okay, he told himself in the pauses between screams in his head. This actually _un_ complicated things. They could just go back to normal, reset half a day, pretend as though Yaku’s life hadn’t been wholly upturned and rearranged for one chaotic and tumultuous night as he wavered between rejoicing and despairing at being given a second chance to right his mistake from years ago. 

“I’m sorry about that!” Lev laughed. 

Except a nagging voice tugged at Yaku’s heart. Did he really want to reset like that? Hadn’t a part of him secretly hoped for this chance despite all reason? 

“I don’t have a lot of food in this kitchen,” Lev added to his list of apologies. “But there’s a bakery nearby I could pop into while you shower?” 

“Yeah... sure,” Yaku sighed. There wasn’t much he could properly do or even think about on ninety minutes of sleep, and a hot shower sounded incredibly appealing. After which, he could flee back home, bury his head into the ground, and ignore the world for another several years. He could retire to the mountains in Kyoto, find a temple, become a monk, meditate for the rest of his life... Major life decisions were best made when hungover and broken-hearted. 

“What should I get for you?” 

Yaku rubbed at his eyes. “Anything. Whatever you’re getting. And a coffee.” 

“Got it!” Lev gave an annoyingly adorable two-fingered salute before shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door, brave, intrepid, and then some. 

Depending on his mood, Yaku liked his showers either scalding hot or freezing cold and nothing in-between, but since his mood was currently about as steady as their drunken walk home the night before, Yaku started the shower scalding hot then rinsed off with the water ice cold. The polar temperatures certainly helped to wake him up, but his thoughts were still foggy with indecision. At the moment, the only thing he knew for sure he wanted was caffeine and a clean change of clothes—his current ones smelled of meat and beer and sweat. 

Just as he shuffled back into the main room, idly toweling off his hair and debating rummaging through Lev’s clothes for something he could pilfer, the front door of the apartment swung open and Saya stormed in, immediately dumping an overnight bag onto the floor. 

Their eyes met in awkward silence and it was obvious to Yaku that she was struggling to recall his face. They’d only met once before, after all, and she’d been fairly drunk at the time, at a party with dozens of other more noteworthy faces. He knew her name, of course, in the same way you never forgot your anxieties, but only her given name, and he wasn’t sure it was appropriate to use. 

She looked down at the key in her hand, frowned, and broke the silence first. “I have the right apartment... and you do look familiar...” 

“Y-Yaku Morisuke,” he stammered. “We uh... met once before at a wrap party in Kyoto. I’m Lev’s _senpai_ from high school.” 

She narrowed her eyes for several seconds, digging through her memory, then gasped. “Oh yes! Yes I remember bow!” Her demeanor instantly shifted from cautious and wary to pleasant and charming; effusive even. “I’m so sorry I forgot! Oh... and my behavior at that party... you must not have a very good impression of me.” 

Yaku gave a nervous laugh. “No no, I’m sure you meet so many people. And I don’t have a very memorable face.” 

“You have a very handsome face,” she rebutted instantly with a closed smile. “I’m sorry, but... what are you doing here? Visiting from Kyoto to keep little Lev company?” 

Something about the phrasing irked him—he couldn’t be sure if she’d meant the double entendre. “And to visit family. We got—well, Lev got very drunk, and by the time I’d gotten him back here, it was well past the last train.” 

He was explaining himself, why was he explaining himself? 

“Oh I’m sure that’s tremendously embarrassing for Lev. He can usually outdrink everyone we know. Thank you very much for getting him home safely.” She smiled again, a perfectly trained model’s smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and then she added, “I just got back from Singapore on a red-eye flight, so I might be just as sleep-deprived as you.” 

“Possibly more so,” Yaku lied. 

He was ready to pass out then and there if only to get away from this conversation. Lev had said to him that he and Saya weren’t serious, but she had just waltzed in with keys to his apartment and was now maneuvering around the kitchen knowing exactly what was in each cabinet. He felt like the homewrecker that had just been caught trying to sneak out after an illicit rendezvous—which was ridiculous because they’d done nothing wrong and anyway, was there a home here to wreck? 

“High school _senpai_... so you were on the volleyball team with him then, I assume?” 

“Hm?” It was taking Yaku every ounce of brain power to continue this chat. “Oh, yes.” 

“You must be that amazing libero Lev would gush about,” she winked. 

Yaku flushed. “Maybe. Do you... like volleyball?” 

She laughed aloud and to Yaku it seemed like her first genuine emotion. “Oh no, not at all! Sports aren’t on my radar at all. I’m just good at remembering what people tell me so that I can follow a conversation. But I wouldn’t be interested in ever going to a game or anything. Tell me, since Lev would always brag and I can’t take his word for it, was he really the team’s ace? The way he makes it sound, he could have gone pro if he wanted.” 

Yaku raised an eyebrow. Oh is that what he was telling people now? 

“Well definitely not when he was a first year.” 

Saya clicked her tongue and winked. “See? I knew he was exaggerating. Mind you, he’s done shoots for athletic brands and I can tell that he’s played before—they always tell him he has good form and all that—but tons of kids play in high school, so I couldn’t tell if he was actually any good. There’s a pretty big gap between being a decent high school player and going pro, isn’t there? I know from working with him that he can be a fast learner if he tries, but it’s so hard to motivate him sometimes. I bet he was the laziest player on your team.” 

A sudden image of Kenma flashed in Yaku’s mind, but before he could open his mouth to argue, the door opened again and then there was Lev, doing the same double-take they’d moved past ten minutes ago. 

“Saya!” he half-shrieked. “I thought you were in Singapore for that big—” 

“Ugh, sham you mean?” she scoffed and took one of the two coffees in his hand without missing a beat. 

“Um, that’s for—” 

“I don’t know if the agency dropped the ball or the manager, but it wasn’t nearly as big an event as they advertised, and there was basically nobody there worth networking with. Majority of the models were so new—the only ones who could be suckered in, basically. It was such a waste of time! I flew back as soon as the job was done; it wasn’t worth staying.” 

Lev looked down quietly at the one remaining coffee in his hand and slowly shuffled over to pass it to Yaku. He looked over at Yaku’s disheveled, post-shower appearance and added, “I can probably go dig around for a shirt you can borrow, if you want.” 

“It’s fine,” Yaku shook his head. “It’s only a half-hour on the train to get home. I’ll live.” 

“Not to mention, I don’t think anything of yours would fit!” Saya giggled. “He’s more likely to fit something from my bag.” 

“Just thought I’d offer...” Lev stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

This may have only been his second time seeing the two together, and Yaku (now) knew there was some element of his presence being a complicating factor for Lev’s feelings, but their behavior together didn’t sit well with Yaku, whether or not they were a couple. Lev always seemed to shrink into himself, suddenly nervous and docile and no longer the bright, exuberant personality he usually was. Saya’s presence diminished Lev’s, and even if Yaku had no experience with relationships, he knew that wasn’t a great sign. 

“It was lovely to see you again, Yaku-san!” Saya smiled and waved and Yaku understood it was the verbal equivalent of kicking him out the door. “Thank you again for looking out for this one while I was gone.” 

Wordlessly, Yaku nodded. That last bit was veering from passive-aggressive into aggressive, and that was interesting, he noted. Meanwhile Lev was starting to look like a desperate puppy at that agonizing part of the day when his favorite human leaves the house. 

“Text me when you get home,” he pleaded softly and shoved the bag from the bakery into Yaku’s free hand. 

“Well if I don’t, you can just assume I passed out on the Yamanote Line going in circles,” Yaku patted Lev’s arm. “It was nice to see you, Saya-san,” he added almost as an afterthought. 

He tripped over his own feet trying to put his shoes on and stumbled out the door. Damn, he couldn’t even manage a decent exit. He cursed himself internally all the rest of the way home, replaying the entire encounter repeatedly in his head and dissecting it for all of his own missteps, things he could have said instead to sound witty or suave and most of all, not on the defensive. He hadn’t even done anything wrong or shameful, and for all her confidence and swagger, Yaku got the distinct impression that Lev didn’t think of Saya’s intrusion as a welcome one. Triumph swelled his chest for all of three seconds before unwanted Reason deflated it once again—he was thinking of Saya as competition for a contest he hadn’t yet formally registered in. 

But he could. Couldn’t he? 

* * *

Lev’s shoulders slumped the second the door shut behind Yaku, and he wheeled on Saya with a groan. 

“I see you’ve been partying just fine without me,” she noted, sipping the coffee that was definitely not hers. 

“I wish!” Lev pulled at his hair and glared. “Why are you even here?” 

She scoffed. “I told you. The show was falsely advertised and a total bust—” 

“Not that,” Lev was getting exasperated. “Last time we talked, you were the one who told me not to call you until I could ‘keep up’ or whatever. You stormed out, and I haven’t called.” 

She stopped mid-sip and stared, an unnerving silence falling on the room. Lev tried not to shrink under the intensity of it. 

“Well I guess that explains the random man I found here upon coming home—” 

“Yaku-san is not some random man! I’ve known him for much longer than you, and this isn’t your place!” She did nothing to make her presence more permanent in his apartment, she mostly used it as makeshift free lodgings because it was in the city in a more convenient location for their work. 

“So you’re breaking up with me, is that it?” 

“You broke up with me!” 

“We had a fight, and I said some shit while I was upset,” Saya’s voice was rising. “Does that qualify as a break-up now? Given our usual pattern?” 

“I’m sick of our usual pattern!” Lev had never really yelled at Saya before. He didn’t mean to, but the dam had burst now, and there was no small amount of built-up frustration from countless past grievances, major and minor. “Yeah, I guess it’s hard to call it a break-up when we’re not even a real couple. You just come and go as you please and treat me like I’m a child. Yaku-san would never—” 

“Since when does some random high school _senpai_ of yours get to weigh in as a factor in our relationship?” Saya snapped. “You’ve known him longer, but I only met him a couple months ago, and now suddenly this boring salaryman you only just got back in touch with has an opinion that matters to you?” 

“Don’t talk about Yaku-san like that!!” 

Saya jumped. She’d never seen such anger from Lev, hadn’t ever imagined he could even be capable of it. She’d done a fair amount in their time together to nag at him, push him, trying to pull out his potential or otherwise push him to his limits, but no matter how heavy-handed she’d been, he’d never gotten this angry with her. 

“All right, fine,” she put up her hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t know him, sorry. But... why is this suddenly not working anymore for you?” 

Lev thought back suddenly to his conversation with Shibayama, and back to Kyoto, back to yesterday when Yaku-san had asked to see him in action doing his job, to this morning when he’d woken up more dazed than usual and thought he was dreaming when he’d found Yaku-san asleep on his couch. There were times when he felt genuinely excited, happy, himself, but rarely with Saya. 

“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” Lev mumbled. 

Once upon a time, she’d reminded him of Yaku-san—they had the same intensity when they were passionate about something, they pushed themselves, and when they cared about someone, they pushed them too. They were teachers, motivators, and friends. But when it came to Saya, he knew there was always one crucial caveat. 

“Answer me honestly,” Lev asked. “If I stopped being a model, would you still want to be with me?” 

Saya’s hands fell to her sides. She gave a half-grimace and clicked her tongue in distaste. “If you quit after everything I taught you and the time I spent on you? No. I’d leave.” 

Ultimately, Saya was much more unrelenting in her ambitions; she planned to rule the world in her way, her life was plotted out, and any partner of hers would need to fit into the mold she’d set aside for him and follow her life’s plans. Anyone who couldn’t was replaced with someone who could. Lev thought he wouldn’t mind so much... until he did. 

“Then you better leave,” he said quietly. “You deserve someone who can keep up with you, and I can’t. No. I don’t want to.” 

He held his breath and prayed she wouldn’t cry, but the expression she gave him was nowhere near tears. Of course not. Instead she scoffed and pursed her lips. 

“You can just tell me it’s about him. The one that got away.” 

“Wh-what?” 

“I’ve seen how you look at him, how you talk about him.” She picked up her bag and sighed, heading for the door. “I’m just annoyed I didn’t piece it together until now.” 

She paused one final time to fish Lev’s keys out of her apartment and drop them clattering dramatically to the floor. “You know... that’s the most decisive you’ve ever been. Good luck with all that.” 

Then she half-slammed the door behind her and left, leaving Lev feeling dreadfully alone, her departure hitting him like a brick to the chest, never mind that he’d thrown the brick. Even if he wasn’t in love with her, he cared about her, and her quick and easy rejection was a deep cut. She’d be angry with him for a while, mostly for leading her on for the past few months, but then she’d get over it and move on, and for Saya there were _plenty_ of other fish in the sea. It was all for the best, but he couldn’t say that any of that had felt good. 

He collapsed onto the couch, which still smelled faintly of Yaku-san, and he curled himself into a ball on it as best he could, clutching his knees. 

_The one that got away..._ Saya could tell that much just from observing Lev’s behavior over the past few months, and she certainly wasn’t wrong. But catching the one that got away was an entirely different matter, and Lev could hear Shibayama berating him in his head for being dramatic and stupid. 

>>When do you head back to Kyoto? 

My shinkansen leaves tomorrow afternoon<<

>>I don’t have anything scheduled.   
>>I could go see you off. 

If you wanna drag yourself to Tokyo Station just for that, I won’t stop you<<

>>Where and when should I meet you? 

A send-off was wholly unnecessary, but very much appreciated, if only to give Yaku yet another chance to not be a coward... well, for a modified definition of the word ‘coward,’ since he didn’t feel particularly brave or bold about maybe admitting his feelings and then immediately running away on a literal bullet train. 

He sat fidgeting in the café where they agreed to meet, tapping his toes rhythmically against the luggage between his legs. He supposed this conversation (should he choose to have it) was five years in the making. Had he nipped this in the bud with a clean break by telling Lev no back then, maybe they could have both moved on properly. Yaku wasn’t sure about his own chances with anyone else, but he could’ve avoided hindering Lev’s emotional growth. Maybe. 

He thought back to Lev’s comments about how everyone in his industry slept around casually and shook his head. No, Lev had grown plenty without him and had a lot—a _lot_ more life experience to show for it. The one whose growth was stunted was himself. 

He groaned; his mental metaphor was punching himself in the face. A part of him still wanted Lev to be happy with Saya—a beautiful girl with a glamorous career who wouldn’t look out of place holding hands with him in public. Sure Lev had had flings with men, but committing to a relationship marked as ‘other’ for the long-term was different. They would face much more external pressure and judgment, and in the long run, he suspected it would be much more work than dealing with any of Saya’s tantrums or precociousness. Did he want to put Lev through that? Should he allow him to? 

Weren’t these the same questions he’d asked himself back then? 

“Yaku-san!” 

He looked up and saw Lev waving from the entrance, looking casually handsome just to annoy him. 

“Sorry I’m late—ow!” 

“Sorry, that’s my luggage under the table.” 

Yaku did his best to shift it out a little, but the café in this part of Tokyo Station was small and cramped anyway, with low wobbly tables that would’ve been a challenge for Lev’s legs even without Yaku’s bag in the way. He settled in his seat like an adult on a tricycle, and Yaku fought the urge to laugh. 

After a bit of nervous silence, Lev burst out, “I’m really sorry about the other day. I really didn’t think Saya would just barge in like that. I hope she didn’t offend you or say anything... um, offensive?” 

Yaku wasn’t sure that being passive aggressive counted as being offensive, per se, although he had to admit that she had definitely put him on edge. 

“If she did, I’m sorry. You won’t have to see her again. I won’t be seeing her again either. Oh, except maybe for work.” 

“...you won’t?” 

“No, uh...” Lev scratched his head. “We broke up pretty much right after you left.” 

“You did?” 

“It wasn’t anything you did,” Lev quickly added. Well, nothing Yaku had done _directly_. “It was honestly past time. We’ve never been very good together. We argue a lot and we just... we have different priorities. I think we were caught in a loop for a while just because it was familiar. Less work than trying to find other people or break up for good. So. Yeah. Sorry, you don’t need to hear this; I’m rambling, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to make sure she didn’t say anything... weird to you.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Yaku laughed. “Although she did mention that you told her you were Nekoma’s ace when you played volleyball.” 

“After Yamamoto-san graduated!” Lev scrambled. “In my third year! I didn’t lie or anything—you should have seen me, Yaku-san, I was incredible!” 

“I wish I had,” Yaku smiled. He was sure even without Lev’s exaggerated claims that Lev must have been a force to be reckoned with in his third year. 

Lev flushed and pulled on his bangs, stammering. “B-but... I was never good enough to be in the nation’s top aces. Not good enough to be scouted.” 

“Is that why you stopped playing and went to modeling instead?” 

A silence fell over Lev as he stared at Yaku, weighing the question in his head. He hadn’t really thought too hard about it, which was of course his problem. 

“W-well... I got scouted to model, and... I wasn’t good enough to go pro for volleyball and... everyone else was going separate places and a lot of the others decided to stop playing in college too, and I just thought... why not?” It sounded so stupid when he said it like that. Like he hadn’t thought anything through ever in his life. “Maybe I should’ve gone to college first... but all my exam scores sucked too, and I’m just not good at school.” 

“Lev, I wasn’t criticizing you,” said Yaku. “And not that I know anything, but you’re good at what you do now. I think. Your agent said that as long as you stay focused, you’re great to work with, probably one of the best.” 

“Suzuki-san said that about me?” Lev brightened. “He never says stuff like that to my face! Only to other people.” Lev pouted, but there was still a hint of a smile at the edges. “Do you like your job, Yaku-san?” 

“Yeah, I like it all right,” Yaku leaned back in his seat. “I guess I sort of fell into it, like you. Yeah, parts of it are a drag, but I like my co-workers, I have a reasonable boss, and I get decent pay. Lately I think I’ve settled into it better since it feels a little less monotonous these days.” Probably because he was less depressed overall. And he had Lev to thank for that, he just wasn’t sure how. 

“So you don’t want to move back to Tokyo?” 

Yaku blinked. “Why do you ask?” 

“Well I...” Lev bit his lip, avoiding his eyes. “I was just wondering when I’d be able to see you again.” 

Yaku bit his lip, mirroring him. “Ah. Hmm...” he said uselessly in an attempt to fill the silence. 

“I could...” Lev fidgeted. “I could try to keep an eye out for more gigs in Kansai, but there aren’t as many to begin with, so I don’t know when I’d be able to head out there next.” 

“Lev,” Yaku cut him off. “As great as it is to see you, you shouldn’t...” 

He stopped himself. He was defaulting again to pushing people away, talking them out of ever considering him as a part of their lives. Shouldn’t what? Lev shouldn’t want to see him so often? Shouldn’t care about him? Shouldn’t have feelings for him? 

Lev’s shoulders slumped. “I’m being a bother, huh? Wanting to see you all the time.” 

“No! You’re not a bother at all, it’s just—” 

Suddenly, Yaku’s phone alarm buzzed on the table, reminding him of his shinkansen departure. He was out of time—he had to go. 

“My train...” he mumbled. 

“Right. You have to go.” 

They scrambled awkwardly out of their tiny booth and shoved through the rest of the café to get out to the ticket gates, and Yaku’s suitcase was suddenly a boulder dragging behind him, pulling him back and begging him to stay. 

He couldn’t just leave it at that. 

Yaku turned just before he needed to go through the gate and poked Lev in the chest. “Lev. If you want to come visit, you’re always welcome, all right? I’ll even have furniture ready for you to sleep on if you need a place to crash, and I’ll make sure the kitchen is stocked with breakfast.” 

“Yaku-san?” 

“You’re not a bother,” he repeated. And then, without quite thinking, he gave Lev a tight hug, wrapping his arms around Lev’s waist. It was as sudden as the hug Lev had given him back in Kyoto on that early spring day. “I always like spending time with you, ya big idiot.” 

“Y-Yaku-san?!” 

But before Lev could process what was happening, Yaku had let go, blushing furiously, and was dragging himself to the gate. 

“Yaku-san, that’s not fair!” Lev whined. 

Yaku charged past the ticket gates, steam whistling out of his ears. The announcements overhead were stressing the importance of getting to the platform soon because his train had arrived, and he turned back to look at Lev one last time, pleased to see that Lev was just as flushed as he was, his face red and his green eyes bright and sparkling. 

Yeah, he had a chance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's been reading this story so far, we're almost to the finish line now!!  
> I really appreciate all of the comments on each update, and happy to find other people who love these idiots with me and loves them together.


	7. Ready

Lev knew well enough that he wasn’t an overly smart man. He couldn’t wax poetic or debate philosophy or theorize physics—he could barely do algebra by graduation, and most of history had been a blur, but he had a decent grasp of people and social interactions. The slightest flicker in a gaze spoke volumes along with posture, tone, inflection. He knew how to read the spaces between words where people hid what they really wanted to say. 

Or so he thought. 

When it came to Yaku Morisuke, he was always thrown for a loop, and it was impossible to try and recalibrate his sensors with permanent rose-colored glasses on. 

What had the hug meant? Had it been platonic? A suggestion? Invitation? It wasn’t like they’d never hugged before—they'd done that in high school plenty of times after a game, which made it almost uniquely _not_ special... but Yaku had also said all of those inviting things, and Lev was prone to optimism. Fervent, unstoppable Hope bloomed in his heart as he imagined the possibilities ahead for them. 

On the evening that Yaku had taken the bullet train home, Lev received a text that let him know that Yaku had made it home safe and sound, that Kyoto was boiling hot, and that he would be heading to bed early like the old geezer he was at heart. 

It had been such a simple text, nothing really, but Lev’s heart soared to know that Yaku took a moment to think about him and message him after getting home. Lev quickly reverted back to being a lovestruck teenager, except it had never hit quite this hard when he’d been a teen. Yes, he’d loved Yaku back then, loved as fully and as deeply as a teenager could, but that had simply been a drop in the well that now encompassed his feelings. Which was ridiculous, and he needed to pace himself, calm down, be less of a ‘drama queen’ as Shibayama had put it. 

The question was how? 

It was in the midst of these unique struggles that his manager texted him the proofs from the shoot Yaku had spectated, and Lev inevitably spent several minutes carefully curating the three best shots before sending them on to Yaku. 

Oh, these are from that shoot they let me watch, huh?<<   
Nice photos!<<

>>These are just the proofs I got.   
>>I don’t know which ones they’ll actually publish. 

I’m sure they all came out great.<<   
I mean you looked pretty good in person from what I saw.<<   
Better even.<<

>>Yaku-san!!   
>>Are you implying that no camera could ever possibly capture my good looks? 

Ok, well if you’re going to phrase it that way, I take it back.<<

>>You always look better in-person too, Yaku-san.   
>>But mostly because you take really awful selfies.   
>>You know there are tips online for how to take better ones. 

I’m currently deleting all of your photos from my phone.<<

>>Yaku-san!!! ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚ 

Lev held the chat log up to Shibayama and gave him about a tenth of a second to read the exchange before blurting out, “Is he flirting with me?!” 

Shibayama held Lev’s wrist still so that he could read the texts properly, then furrowed his eyebrows, conflicted. 

“Huh... he’s not, _not_ flirting. I think.” 

“What does that even mean, Yuki?” Lev whined, slumping down onto the table between them. 

“It means that it hurts my brain to imagine our demon _senpai_ flirting with anyone, and especially with you.” 

Shibayama sighed. He cherished Lev’s friendship, however frustrating, but wasn’t sure how he’d managed to become his only confidant on this particular topic. He felt like the blind leading the slightly-less-blind. Whether it was flirting or dating or other, Lev had objectively more experience with all of it, and thus should theoretically know more. Not only that, it was slightly infuriating that Lev was managing to humble brag without realizing it. It must be a nice problem to have, Shibayama mused, to have had so much choice over the years regarding lovers, even if imperfect. And now to potentially have a shot with one’s first love? 

“Also,” Shibayama added. “You’re really leading him on.” 

“Maybe because I have a destination I’d like to lead him _to_ ,” Lev snarked back, and Shibayama was almost impressed by the witty reply. 

* * *

Overtime wasn’t anybody’s favorite pastime, but Yaku didn’t mind it so much as long it was restricted to the weekdays. When it started to cut into his weekends, like today, he got especially cranky. But so was everyone, he supposed. 

The world ran on Deadlines without which it was near impossible to get any significant number of people to collaborate well enough to get anything done. Plans and ideas and visions simply floated in the ether until a week before something was due, and then suddenly everything materialized, proving that the work of months could, in fact, be completed within a week, but only because of that looming, dreadful Deadline. 

>>Yaku-san!   
>>Where are you hiking today? 

Around the office. （；¬＿¬) <<

>>Oh no, more overtime?   
>>I was hoping to be able to call you today... 

Yaku glanced at the wall clock. It was near time for his lunch break anyway. He signaled to his desk mate that he needed to take a call, then excused himself to the roof of the building for a bit more privacy. He took the stairs in the absence of his usual trails to provide him exercise, then called Lev once he was outside at the top. A nice light breeze blew at his tie, and he felt his brain getting a little less fuzzy around the edges. 

“Yaku-san?” came Lev’s excitable voice. “What about overtime?” 

“I’m taking a break,” Yaku huffed. “Stretching my legs. I can’t wait for this month to be over.” 

Lev gave a thoughtful hum in his ear. “Is it that bad? Sometimes I think your job only makes you miserable.” 

“I think that’s pretty much every job!” Yaku laughed. 

“Is it? I guess... anything that pays the bills?” 

Even the most outwardly glamorous jobs had their pitfalls, and Yaku could somehow hear Lev peering into a chasm on the other end of the line. “What’s wrong, Lev?” 

“I’m having a slow season,” Lev said quietly. “My slowest, actually. I normally have more jobs this time of year, but nothing’s really sticking right now. It’s hard to know if that’s my fault or not because so much of this is just... luck. I dunno... I’ve been wondering about getting a more regular job. Maybe wait tables? Maybe even a desk job like you?” 

Yaku wasn’t sure that anyone really _wanted_ a desk job, but he said, “If that’s what you want to do, go for it. If you have the extra time, there’s no harm in job hunting just to see what’s out there.” 

“I guess. Steady work is probably better than being in this industry in the long run, right?” 

Yaku hadn’t missed the disappointment that colored Lev’s voice at imagining the alternatives. Not many could help that. “But if modeling is what you really want to pursue, then keep at it. There’s plenty of time to explore other options if modeling doesn’t pan out, but don’t give it up before you’re ready. Just whatever you do, make sure it’s 100% your decision so that you won’t have regrets.” 

He felt confident in his words for once, if only because he knew a thing or two about regrets. 

“You won’t be disappointed in me for quitting?” 

“Only if you are.” 

Lev sighed into his ear, and Yaku’s eyes looked to the eastern horizon, in the direction of Tokyo. He considered his own advice, which he’d given without too much internal analysis, and debated doing a little harmless job hunting for himself. Just to see what was out there. 

* * *

Weeks later, Lev hadn’t gotten very far in his job hunting before a job found him instead. He knew he should be thanking his lucky stars but he was too busy being bewildered and fascinated at the image of his former _senpai_ Kenma (of all people) running a company. He snuck glances at the self-made CEO throughout the entire shoot, his eyes constantly flitting back and forth between the logo on the apparel he was modeling and Kenma, who was only mildly supervising between snacks and mobile games. 

When the small makeshift crew called for a break, Kenma wandered over to examine the monitors to see the test shots, nodding with approval before finally making his way over to talk to Lev. 

“Kuro and I couldn’t believe it when Yaku-san recommended you to us, but you’re actually pretty decent at this, huh?” 

“W-w-well...” Lev swallowed. Something about Kenma was much more intimidating now despite the continued bad posture and hoodie. “I was pretty surprised too, ya know. To hear that you’re running your own company now.” 

Kenma said nothing, simply shrugged, and Lev grasped at the next sentence. He looked down at the logo on his sleeve and added, “And sponsoring athletes like Hinata... Is it really okay to use me for this? I’m not a pro player or anything.” 

It had been a lot to take in a week ago when Yaku had texted him Kuroo’s phone number and warned of an incoming gig. First, he had had to steel himself for facing down an adult Kuroo-san, which proved difficult to even imagine, and then throughout the phone call that followed, he had to get very quickly used to the casual fact that Kenma was now a CEO, that he had products he needed to market (ergo, the need for a model), that several people he knew were now pro players in the volleyball scene, that Hinata had left for Brazil at some point _and_ come back, but most importantly according to Kuroo, they all “suck at modeling.” 

“It’s just clothes,” Kenma shrugged. “Not a team branded jersey or anything. And anyway, the actual pro players I’ve tried at this point have been... Shouyou wouldn’t stop making faces, and Kageyama could only make the one face. The one that looks slightly angry.” 

“Why didn’t you just use Kuroo-san? He’s handsome enough to model. You wouldn’t even have to pay him.” 

Kenma made an old, familiar face Lev was used to seeing since he’d made more mistakes than anyone else on the team. Something about this idea was incredibly unappealing, and Lev wasn’t quite sure why. 

Finally, he said, “...he’s shy.” 

“Liar!” 

But Kenma simply turned his head away, hiding a small grin before adding, “I was also surprised you two had stayed in touch. Kuroo was complaining that Yaku-san wouldn’t stay in touch with him... but he was still talking to you, huh?” 

“It’s a really recent thing,” Lev said quietly, and now it was his turn to look away. “We just happened to reconnect early this spring.” 

His eyes briefly darted to the ring on Kenma’s hand and recalled the matching one he’d seen Kuroo wearing. It was true, they were engaged. He hadn’t been entirely sure whether or not Yaku had been pulling his leg, even if that seemed an odd thing to fabricate. When Lev thought about it, he wasn’t surprised. But he was curious... and when the curiosity bug bit him, Lev tended to scratch the itch immediately. 

“Can I ask who proposed?” 

Kenma blinked. After a minute, he looked down at the ring on his finger and turned it quietly with his thumb. 

“I did.” 

“Really?!” Lev screeched. 

“You’re still so loud...” Kenma grimaced and leaned away. “Don’t be so shocked. Who do you think had the money for rings?” 

Lev struggled to hide his envy as he looked again at Kenma’s hand. It wasn’t necessarily that he wanted to be engaged, but a mutually devoted relationship sounded wonderful. Lev knew what it was to chase after someone who didn’t return his feelings, to be chased by someone whose feelings he didn’t return, and chasing back and forth at different speeds in what turned out to be different races. It was all a bit of a mess. 

He’d always suspected Kuroo’s feelings for Kenma and had never been sure how Kenma felt in return... but he could clearly see now how in love they both were. 

Maybe love eluded him because he was trying too hard. 

“Ahh... that must be nice.” 

Kenma raised an eyebrow at the wistfulness he heard. “I would think being a model meant everyone would want to date you.” 

“Everyone except the one I want to date,” Lev grumbled. 

“Yaku-san?” Kenma guessed. 

“Y-y-you know?!” 

“I assumed. But I’m usually right.” 

Lev slumped and it made him look like a dramatic teenager again. Kenma was much more used to that than this suave, cool model he’d become. 

He reached into his pocket for his phone and drew up a snapshot he’d taken. “I’ll send these to Yaku-san. Or have Kuro send them. And I’ll thank him for leading us to you since you did such a great job.” 

Lev sniffed, but gave a wry little smile. “Putting in a good word for me?” 

“If it helps.” 

“It couldn’t hurt.” 

Kenma gave a little smile in return as he stashed his phone again. “I’d be a pretty bad _senpai_ if I didn’t try to help my _kouhai_ in his time of need.” 

“You think of me as your precious _kouhai_?” Lev was touched. And a teeny bit suspicious. 

“I didn’t say ‘precious.’ Anyway, you’re more mine than Kuroo’s since I had _two_ years with you.” 

“But Kuroo-san and I played the same position, so he gave me a lot of extra specific training—” He stopped talking once he caught sight of the murder in Kenma’s eyes. “B-but, you’re right. We did spend more time together.” 

After a nervous silence, he added, “Thank you, by the way. For this gig. It’s been a slow summer for me, so I’m really grateful for this.” 

“It’s not a favor,” Kenma said plainly. “I wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t going to be any good. But I saw your portfolio and Yaku-san vouched for you, saying he saw you in action and everything. And if you can make Yaku-san sound as impressed as he did, I had to give you a shot.” 

Lev smiled and finally relaxed a little. Kenma’s phrasing was always so blunt, but as always, Kenma never doled out compliments or really make any statements without reason. 

“Does that mean you’ll hire me again?” 

“Like a brand contract?” Kenma put a hand to his chin. “Yeah, why not. I’ll talk to your manager about it.” 

“Wait, really!? Just like that?” 

But Kenma simply shrugged as the rest of the crew returned to the set to resume the shoot. Lev was dragged away by the makeup artist who wanted to touch him up and redo his hair in a slightly different style for the next outfit. Dazed and giddy and mostly stunned, Lev sat stiller than he’d ever been in his life. 

>>Hey Yaku-san, did you mean it when you said it’d be okay to crash at your place? 

Don’t tell me you’re right outside my door right now.<<

>>I don’t even know your address! 

Oh right.<<   
Yeah sure. Just give me a heads up.<<

>>I have a job in Kansai in early August.   
>>We can celebrate your birthday! 

I’m impressed you still remember my birthday...<<   
So you’re asking for a favor and dressing it up as a present for me, huh<<

>>Yaku-saaaan!! ╥﹏╥ 

I didn’t say no!<<   
Just give me a date for when you’ll ride in.<<

>>Yaaaay!   
>>I’ll let you know when we get closer to August. 

Oh, Kuroo sent me some snapshots from your shoot for Kenma.<<   
It looked good.<<   
And they were apparently very impressed with you.<<

>>To be honest, I haven’t been that nervous since my very first shoot!!   
>>But Kenma-san said he’d sign me for a brand contract, so I might become the face of Bouncing Ball.   
>>Maybe. 

That’s a good thing, right?<<

>>Yeah!   
>>My manager is happy with me too.   
>>He was worried I’d quit after the breakup, because he did hear about it.   
>>So I guess he really does believe in me and want me to stick around. 

I told you he thinks well of you. As far as I could tell, anyway.<<   
So does this mean you’re feeling better about sticking with modeling?<<

>>For now.   
>>It was nice to be told it’s okay to quit and that I wouldn’t be a loser for quitting.   
>>But I’m having fun again, so I want to keep at it. 

That’s good.<<

>>It’s thanks to you, Yaku-san.   
>>You made me feel better about everything.   
>>And then you even got me a gig!   
>>You’re still taking care of me. I wish there was more I could do for you. 

You’ve done a lot, Lev.<<   
More than you know.<<

“So let’s go over this timeline again,” Kuroo’s voice drawled into Yaku’s ear. He could practically hear the smirk and wanted to smack it off Kuroo’s face all the way from Kyoto. “You ran into Lev on the same weekend that you were ditching our team reunion—” 

“I said I was busy,” Yaku cut in tersely. 

“Evidently not if you were out touring temples with your co-workers when you ran into him.” 

Crap, he had him there. 

“Anyway, you ran into him, the two of you decide to stay in touch again, suddenly you’re visiting Tokyo for Golden Week for the first time in years, even calling up me and Kai to meet up—” 

“I called _just_ Kai, remember? You were uninvited and ambushed me.” 

Kuroo continued, unhindered. “You saw Lev at work and more, and then referred him to me when I was laughing my ass off because of how bad a model Kageyama-kun turned out to be.” 

Yaku sighed into his phone. This conversation was always going to be like pulling teeth, but if possible, Kuroo had only gotten more irritating with time. A simple extraction was quickly turning into a root canal. 

“And so on your word, we hired Lev, and yeah he was great, and Kenma made some very _interesting_ observations. And now your birthday is coming up, and he’s heading out west to see you—” 

“He’s coming out here for work. I just happen to be here.” Even as he said it, he could hear how weak the defense sounded. Especially since it was half untrue. 

“Right, that’s what Lev claims.” 

“Why would he lie about that? Anyway, he’s awful at lying.” 

“And now!” Kuroo was bulldozing through the conversation with impressive frenzy. “For seemingly no reason at all... you’re asking me the details of how Kenma and I got together, right after I very casually mentioned that Lev was asking Kenma about birthday present ideas for you.” 

“Your point?” Yaku said through gritted teeth. 

“”My point, Yakkun, is that I’m very annoyed with you for not telling me during Golden Week that the person-you-had-feelings-for-but-it-was-complicated was Haiba Lev!!” 

“I told you it was... it—complicated!!” Despite its meaning, it was the easiest word to fall back on, and Yaku lacked not only the depth of words but also emotional range to just casually chat about his feelings for Lev. 

“Oh please!” Kuroo scoffed. “What’s so complicated about _Lev_ of all people? He’s an idiot that apparently had a torch for you in high school, probably still does now according to Kenma, and life is just too damn short for your waffling!” 

Yaku heard a mumbling voice somewhere in the background of Kuroo’s end. 

“I _am_ going easy on him!” Kuroo replied to the voice Yaku guessed was Kenma’s. “Why does everyone keep telling me to go easy on you? Like you ever went easy on anyone.” 

“He just went through a break-up, and you don’t think I should give him some space? Look, if he’s still interested in me, it’s better for him to bring it up at his own pace.” 

“Right, because Lev making the first move worked sooo well for him last time.” 

Yaku went silent for nearly a full minute. “...how do you know about that?” 

“I have my sources,” Kuroo boasted. 

“You mean Kenma told you,” Yaku sighed. The most insufferable couples were the ones who were happy together, because they talked about everything and it made them insufferable together. 

Kuroo laughed. “Honestly, I almost didn’t believe it when I first heard about it. Lev went totally cliché on you to confess and you just left him hanging? I had no idea you could be so uncool, demon _senpai_.” 

Perhaps the most annoying part was that Yaku wholeheartedly agreed. 

“I’m just saying cut the kid a break. He’s put in enough work for you, don’t you think it’s time for you to pull your weight here? Let him know how you feel!” 

Yaku heard more mumbling in the background followed by Kuroo sighing loudly and adding, “Kenma wants me to say, ‘do as I say and not as I do.’” There was a pause, more mumbling, and then Kuroo continued in a flat, begrudging voice, “Because I took too long, Kenma had to make the first move.” Yet more mumbling. “Kenma! I don’t—fiiiine. ‘And you don’t want to be the kind of embarrassing man that never takes initiative.’ All right, you know what, that’s enough!” 

Yaku laughed. Insufferable couples also wanted other couples to join them usually, which made them oddly keen on matchmaking. Or if not matchmaking, then setting up a slippery collision course for two people who showed any hint of interest in one another because the best way to learn how to swim was to throw people into the deep end of the pool. And if they still failed to swim, there was always CPR. 

It was also an oddly effective motivator to want to outdo Kuroo. 

“What did Kenma tell Lev to get me?” 

Kuroo repeated the question, cackled, then replied, “He says he won’t tell you because he promised Lev he wouldn’t.” 

“Fine...” 

“Remember you promised that you’d tell me if anything happens,” Kuroo sing-songed. 

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t _promise_ anything—” 

“If Kenma hears from Lev before I hear from you, Kai will be very upset, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint Kai, would you? Anyway, I gotta go, but seriously, just go for it!” 

The call clicked off, and Yaku stared at the extra futon he’d diligently bought for Lev’s visit like he said he would. It seemed to stare back at him with waggling eyebrows and a wink and a wolf-whistle where it lay sprawled on his living room floor reinflating. 

Yaku kicked it every time he walked past it. 

* * *

When Kuroo had told Yaku on the phone that Lev had “put in enough work” for him, he hadn’t disagreed, but also could not have anticipated exactly how hard Lev would try to make sure he visited exactly on his birthday. Firstly, the job he’d mentioned was actually in Osaka, an hour’s train ride away, so he needed to take a very early bullet train from Tokyo to Osaka, then the day was rescheduled from August 6th to August 8th, to the actual day of Yaku’s birthday, and since it was a gig with a first-time client, Lev was obligated by his agency to attend the wrap party. 

Yaku had gotten periodic texts all throughout the day of Lev’s progress, his apologies for the change of plans, and repeated promises that he’d try to leave as soon as he possibly could. Yaku honestly wasn’t bothered in the least, but no matter his reassurances, Lev was clearly distraught at all his careful plans being wrecked. 

Eventually, Yaku opened his door to a despondent Lev, who had arrived at his doorstep several minutes past midnight, with an overnight bag and a bottle of wine, and half-soaked from the rain because _of course_ the weather decided to turn on him for the final _pièce de_ _résistance_. 

“I’m late...” he whined, his bangs plastered to his forehead to really add to the pitiful aesthetic. 

Yaku gave a little laugh and shoved him inside. “I told you it was fine.” 

Lev passed him the bottle with relentless puppy-dog eyes and added, “I didn’t even have time to grab a cake or anything...” 

“It’s my birthday not yours, stop being more upset than me,” Yaku teased. 

But he supposed the situation needed some immediate placating, so he pulled out two clean glasses (he didn’t have wine glasses, but at least he wasn’t pulling out plastic cups), screwed a wine-opener into the cork and held it back out to Lev. 

“Are you gonna pop this open for me or what?” 

With half a pout, Lev plodded over to pull out the cork with a very satisfying _pop,_ then poured a generous amount into both glasses. 

“Um... happy birthday, Yaku-san!” Lev lifted his glass. 

“Thanks. And cheers.” Yaku clinked his glass against Lev’s and sipped. 

He could count the number of times he’d drunk red wine on one hand, which was to say he’d only ever had red wine once before this very moment, so he was by no means a sommelier, but even so, his taste buds could recognize quality. Probably. 

“Mm, wow that’s good!” 

“Really? You like it?” Lev was brightening at last. 

Yaku took another long sip. “Yeah. Now go shower while I finish off this bottle,” he laughed. 

That finally seemed to pull Lev out of his disappointment, and with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, he made his way to the shower room Yaku pointed to with a little less slouch in his posture. 

Yaku threw him a fresh towel, then plopped down onto the new futon with his glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. The new makeshift bed took up most of the floor space in his living room since he’d ordered an extra-large to accommodate Lev’s frankly absurd height. It was also considerably bigger than his own mattress but not as comfortable, mostly due to being on the floor. 

By the time Lev was out of the shower, Yaku had finished half the bottle and was feeling loose and warm and deeply enamored with the way Lev was tousling his hair with the towel. he held the bottle out and mumbled, “Either take this away, or I drink the whole thing.” 

“Well technically it’s part of your present, so it’d be fine if you drank it all,” Lev struggled to hold down his giggles. “Your cheeks are really red.” 

“Shaddup...” 

Yaku was having trouble sitting up straight, and his head lolled to the sides as Lev brought his bag over, pulling out a crumpled, hastily wrapped package. The bow was crushed and the wrapping was already ripped in some places, but who needed a present neatly wrapped anyway? He unwrapped it to find a sleek, light, weatherproof shell jacket, branded with the Bouncing Ball logo, and from the look of it, exactly his size. 

“That one’s mostly from Kenma-san. I told him you like hiking and stuff and asked for a recommendation. This jacket is good for rain and wind, but it’s also really light so that you won’t overheat in it. Good for summer rainy weather, but you can still layer it when the weather gets cooler too.” 

Yaku pulled it on and found that it was, in fact, a perfect fit. He supposed that was thanks to Lev. 

“It’s perfect,” he smiled. “I’ll have to tell Kuroo to thank Kenma for me.” 

“And this one’s all me,” Lev added, pulling out another small box. 

Yaku blinked. Another one? Was Lev’s entire bag just filled with presents? He opened the small box to find a thin, black watch with a narrow screen. 

“It’s a smart watch fitness tracker!” Lev beamed. “Apparently there’s a heart rate monitor and a step counter and an app you can put on your phone and stuff to help keep track of your workouts and stuff.” 

“It’s...” 

Yaku looked from the watch to the jacket to the wine, remembered that Lev had also run through the rain from an hour away just to try to get here before midnight, and had still lamented not being able to bring a cake, and Yaku sniffed a little. 

“This is all really thoughtful, Lev. You didn’t have to.” 

“I wanted to,” Lev insisted, smiling wide. 

Lev’s smile was infectious, and Yaku found himself grinning right back. “Well thank you.” 

Absentmindedly, he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair out of Lev’s eyes, and they grew wide and bright as a faint pink began coloring Lev’s cheeks. 

“I never really apologized, did I?” Yaku’s words were catching in his throat. “For what I did to you in high school.” 

Lev swallowed nervously. “Do you mean...?” 

“Graduation day.” 

Lev bit his lip and took a deep, shaking breath. He was suddenly struggling not to cry. 

“That day... why didn’t you come to meet me?” 

Yaku opened his mouth and closed it again. He simply did not have a good answer. 

“I waited and I waited, and I’m always so impatient, but I waited. Why didn’t you at least meet me to tell me _no_?” 

“Because I was scared,” Yaku admitted. Lev’s pain was breaking his heart, and he should have let it years ago. “Because if I’d gone to meet you that day, I might have said yes.” 

“Then—” 

“I was leaving. No matter what, I was leaving for Kyoto, and you still had two years of high school ahead of you and where would it have gone?” 

“You always do that!” For Lev, this frustration had been years in the making and there was no keeping it back anymore. Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes. “You always overthink everything and try to make decisions for both of us—if you had feelings for me, you should’ve said!” 

“I know, I’m sorry!” Yaku too, was on the verge of tears. “I’ve regretted it ever since!” 

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. This conversation was never going to be easy, but the last thing he wanted to do was turn it into a shouting match. 

“Believe me, I’m sorry. I should’ve apologized years ago. And I... I understand if it feels like too little too late.” 

Lev sniffed but bit his lip to keep his mouth shut. This was the explanation he’d waited years to hear, and he needed it desperately. 

“You know when I saw you that day,” Yaku said slowly. “During that yukata shoot you had? I wasn’t sure if that was meant as a blessing or a curse. A reminder of what I let go or a second chance?” 

He looked Lev in the eyes, sitting up as straight as he possibly could. “I never once forgot about you, and when you came crashing back into my life, it was like the sun shining through the clouds for the first time in years. But I’d wronged you, and you had someone, and I didn’t want to ruin your happiness or even hope for a second chance. But I... I guess that depends on your answer.” 

“M-my answer?” 

“I’m asking if you’d be willing to give me a second chance. Or... I guess a first chance that’s very late. Because I still have feelings for you.” 

It was almost surreal for Lev. To have chased after this for so long, even when he should have rightly given up on it and moved on with his life. But just like a dog finally catching a car, he had no idea what to do now that he was here. He’d waited and wished with all of his might for Yaku to one day return his affections that now he was dumbfounded. 

After so much mourning over what they never became, the loss of something that never was... did they dare? 

Yaku leaned in close. 

“Lev?” he asked again. 

Wordlessly, Lev nodded and met Yaku’s lips halfway. 

The first kiss was brief, timid, almost apologetic. It spoke to the last of both of their hesitations, aired out the last of their grievances. 

The second kiss spoke to their impatience to catch up on time missed, all the squandered opportunity, as if they could get back the lost time by kissing deeper, clinging tighter. 

Yaku pulled back first with heavy gasps, face now flushed from more than just the wine. 

“Lev...” he whispered, overwhelmed. “You’re my first kiss.” 

Surprise flashed briefly across Lev’s features before being replaced with a cheeky grin that exuded an odd sort of pride. 

“Okay, Yaku-san. I’ll take it easy on you.” 

“Screw that,” Yaku growled, wrapping his arms around Lev’s shoulders with a cheeky grin of his own. 

Their third kiss was a promise for many _many_ more to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for reading, thank you for all of your comments on every chapter, and thank you for sticking with this story!  
> You guys have been so sweet and supportive, and I hope it's been fun for you to read. 
> 
> There may or may not be a bonus epilogue chapter on the way with some smut for those who are interested~
> 
> You can find me elsewhere to chat about volleyboys!
> 
> Twitter: @Luna_Dreaming  
> Tumblr: nimbus-cloud.tumblr.com


	8. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the smutty epilogue that I promised months ago!
> 
> I'm not sure if I want to change the rating on the entire fic just for this one chapter. I still might, but before then...  
> As mentioned, this is an NSFW chapter, with a hint of blossoming praise kink for Lev. :D  
> Happy fucking new year!!

Yaku had to admit that Lev had rather outdone himself in dressing up his apartment since the last time he’d seen it. There were curtains on the windows and fewer clothes simply strewn about the living room. Trinkets had appeared to decorate the TV stand along with properly framed photos of family and friends. And although the clothes were better organized, the space had grown messy in other ways—stray papers and notes on tables and reminders pinned to the fridge. 

Simply put, he’d made it a home. 

“You can put your suitcase in my room, Yaku-san!” Lev chimed as he closed the door behind him. “And I actually went grocery shopping, so I can try to make us dinner! Or... would you rather go out? A movie maybe?” 

Yaku rolled his suitcase to rest by Lev’s now-much-wider bed and raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s a three-day weekend, Lev, what do you think I want to do?” 

“Um...” Lev stared wide-eyed and slightly panicked. It was worse than a pop quiz. “I... don’t know. Um, there’s a panini place nearby if you would rather eat out?” 

In truth, they were both nervous, but Lev didn’t know how to hide it. They were reaching now about half-a-year since they’d gotten together. Lev traveled more for work and ended up at Yaku’s place in Kyoto at least once a month, which was more than most long-distance couples got to meet, but not enough to fully figure out the ins and outs of dating and being together. Yaku had felt a bit guilty for not pulling his weight since Lev usually came to him, and also texted more often. But for once, it was Yaku’s turn to make the trip and stay over at Lev’s for a change, which he hadn’t done since Golden Week. And by the looks of it, Lev had done his best to prepare. So really, why on earth would they go out? 

Yaku loosened his tie—he'd taken the shinkansen immediately after work so that he could have one more night in Tokyo, which meant he was still in his work suit and desperate to be rid of it. He gave Lev what he hoped was a sultry look as he slowly drifted to the couch, discarding his suit jacket somewhere on the floor. 

Lev’s eyes widened and he mouthed a voiceless, ‘oh,’ as he scurried out of the kitchen posthaste. He wrapped his arms around Yaku’s shoulders from behind and kissed the top of his head. It was Yaku’s least favorite type of kiss—the one that most emphasized their height disparity—but it was one of Lev’s favorites. 

“Staying in then!” he beamed. “Right. It’s late, and you’re tired from traveling, right.” 

“Lev,” Yaku gently unwound Lev’s arms from around his neck. “Relax. It’s not like this is my first time spending the night here.” 

“Yeah, but...” Lev bit his lip. Minus the uncomfortable encounter with Saya... “But last time you were here, we weren’t dating.” 

Yaku pushed at Lev’s waist and he fell onto the couch with a muffled thwump! 

“And now we are,” Yaku reminded him, placing his knees on either side of Lev’s excessively long legs and straddling his astonished partner. 

Lev blushed and gently rested his hands on Yaku’s hips, still wary of getting carried away and taking too many liberties. “Yeah... now we are!” 

Somehow, Lev still hadn’t fully adjusted to the reality in which he was finally dating the senpai he’d chased in high school, and it was as adorable as it was tiresome. If anyone ought to be timid and grateful about the situation, it should be me, Yaku thought. But in Yaku’s opinion, it was better that they simply make up for lost time instead of going in circles apologizing. This was already more difficult to do since they’d decided on trying this at a distance, and he didn’t need Lev making it even more difficult by acting shy and hesitant. What he needed was for Lev to ravish him. 

“Kiss me,” he demanded. 

Lev obliged with enthusiasm as he always did. So long as Yaku asked for it, Lev would do anything. 

The trouble was that Lev then wouldn’t do anything Yaku didn’t specifically ask for, and the one thing that the mighty Yaku Morisuke hadn’t asked for yet was... that they go all the way in their... well. Yes, they’d made out aplenty, there had been heavy petting and even a blowjob or two, but Yaku was naturally curious to do more. It was just a little bit harder to ask for that one directly, so it was the one time he really wished Lev would take the lead, seeing as how the model was obviously more experienced. But no, it would be now, at the absolute least useful time, that Lev would turn out to be more... restrained. 

Yaku rolled his body and pressed their hips together, moaning at the feeling of Lev’s bulge against his own. At least there were no questions there. 

Lev’s hands pushed up his shirt and gripped his waist tight, but that was the only amount of force. He didn’t push or pull, only let Yaku set the pace and followed his lead. 

“Mngh...” Yaku groaned in mild frustration as their lips pulled apart. “More.” 

So Lev ran his lips and tongue down Yaku’s neck and began steadily unbuttoning Yaku’s shirt. His fingers were careful and steady, no need for Yaku to fear he might lose a button to the throes of passion... except he wanted that very much. 

By contrast, he yanked on Lev’s shirt with every intention to rip it off him if necessary, then swiftly busied himself on undoing both of their pants. 

“Y-Yaku-san...” Lev panted, his needy, hoarse voice ringing sweetly in Yaku’s ears. 

“Too fast?” he smirked. 

“N-no...” Lev moaned. “But—ahhn..!” 

Yaku had learned over the past several months how easy it was to make Lev stop talking in these situations. A pity the technique wasn’t more widely applicable. He gave Lev’s cock another firm stroke to match the first, then breathed against his ear. 

“What’s the problem?” 

“Mngh... b-bed?” Lev stammered. 

Well that wasn’t an awful idea, he had to admit. If Yaku didn’t slow things down at least a little bit, they’d end up finishing fast on the couch with messy handjobs, and he had been hoping for more tonight. 

“Yeah,” Yaku agreed as he dismounted. 

He made a beeline for his suitcase in the bedroom as Lev staggered along behind, clumsily removing his pants on the way. 

“Yaku-san?” 

The pouch was easy to find, and Yaku plopped himself onto the bed with his plan in hand—a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. If he had trouble asking with his words, then he figured these would make his intentions pretty clear. 

Lev tripped rather dramatically at seeing the items. “Yaku-san?!” 

“You don’t have to look so shocked,” Yaku pouted. “Or don’t you want to do this with me?” 

Lev scrambled onto theb ed and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I do! Of course I do! But...” 

Yaku put a hand to Lev’s chin and lifted his gaze so their eyes met. “You’re the more experienced one at this. Enough of trying to be the good little kouhai, shouldn’t you be taking charge here?” 

The shock slowly faded from his green eyes to be replaced by something resembling... maturity. And lust. 

“I just wasn’t sure... if I wanted to hold you or be held by you,” Lev admitted. 

Now it was Yaku’s turn to blush, both from Lev’s sudden boldness and from self-admonishment as he quietly admitted in return, “...I hadn’t actually thought that far.” 

Lev laughed. “Really? You didn’t fantasize about which you might prefer?” 

Yaku’s eyes looked between Lev’s legs and gulped—he had not really considered what it would be like to try and fit Lev’s... sizable length inside of him. 

But Lev seemed to sense his hesitation, and at the request that he ‘take charge,’ something seemed to switch inside him. It was similar to the moment when he would step onto a set and the cameras would begin flashing. He knew exactly how to turn it on when needed, so to speak. 

He gently took the bottle of lube out of Yaku’s hand and kissed his cheek. Here at last was the suave and reassuring lover, and Yaku felt his heart flutter wildly in his chest, like a maiden in a romance novel. This was a terrible idea—all of his resolve was crumbling in the face of this serious, cool Lev. 

“It’s been a long time since I did it this way,” Lev whispered as he slicked up his fingers. “But I’ve been imagining what it might feel like to do this with you since high school—ngh!” 

He whimpered slightly as he pressed one long finger inside himself. With his other hand, he braced himself against Yaku, who sat as still as stone, dumbfounded at the unexpected sight of Lev fingering himself above him. Question asked and answered, he supposed, but it was still so... 

“Lev...” Yaku’s cock was aching, Lev looked so incredible. 

He was definitely in the right business. Every new side of Lev was beautiful to Yaku. He was handsome and mesmerizing in a dozen different ways... adorable too. And he was all his. 

“Ya-Yaku-san!” 

Lev moaned as he pressed another finger inside, and Yaku felt jolted into some kind of action. He reached out to stroke Lev with one hand—he was still rock hard—and kissed down Lev’s neck. He nipped and sucked and mumbled into his skin between kisses. 

“Lev... Lev, you look amazing.” 

Lev’s hips bucked a little at that, his mouth falling open with gasps and moans Yaku had never heard before. He scooted closer and reached around to feel where Lev’s fingers were diligently teasing and stretching his entrance. 

“Let me,” he said quietly. When he’d asked for Lev to take charge, he didn’t mean to be totally useless. 

With a groan, Lev pulled out his fingers and used both hands to steady himself on Yaku’s shoulders. His elbows went weak after Yaku pushed a tentative finger inside—it was always so much more intense when someone else did it, Lev could never understand it, but everything was more when it was Yaku. Yaku’s touch was electric. 

“Ahh! Yaku-san!” He repeated Yaku’s name over and over, as if to make up for all the years when he couldn’t call out to him, as if to erase all the times he’d called out anyone else’s name instead. 

By the time Yaku pushed in a third finger, Lev was whimpering with need against him. Even if he’d never done this before, it was clear to his body what they both wanted. But he still didn’t know if Lev was ready. 

“Lev?” Yaku looked up at his flushed face. 

“Yes...” Lev whispered and pushed suddenly, knocking Yaku down onto his back on the mattress. 

Straddling him, Lev carefully positioned himself over Yaku’s cock and Yaku suddenly remembered. 

“Wait! Should I...” he reached for the condoms, but Lev swiped them out of reach. 

“No!” Lev shook his head, gasping. “I need you raw. Yaku-san, I’ve wanted you for so long...” 

Before Yaku could even think to argue further—and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to—Lev was taking him in, and the words died in his throat. 

“Sh-shit!” he gasped as Lev’s heat enveloped him. 

Above him, Lev was arching his back and moaning far too loudly for an apartment with walls this thin. His long thighs quivered against Yaku’s sides, so Yaku ran his hands up and down the pale skin, caressing him gently to help him adjust. 

“Yaku-san,” Lev breathed. “Are you ready?” 

He almost scoffed. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

“Mm...” came Lev’s only answer before he raised himself slowly then lowered himself back down again. 

“Hngh!” 

Yaku now gripped Lev’s thighs tight as sensation washed over him. It was his turn to shiver now; Lev was right to give him warning. He took a deep breath to try and steady himself in order not to climax immediately. A part of him wanted to shut his eyes and focus entirely on the feeling of Lev riding him, but more of him wanted to keep his eyes firmly open to see how incredible Lev looked—his long, lithe body arching as he bounced up and down, his swollen pink lips agape and begging to be kissed, his cock leaking with pre-cum... he had himself an actual model to gawk at, so shouldn’t he? It seemed a crime not to. 

“Lev... Lev, you look incredible...” 

“Ngh! Ahh!” 

That seemed to force Lev into a pause, and he fell forward, his hips stilling as he stole a kiss. His moans were practically keening and he pulled away breathlessly. 

“Yaku-san...” he whined. “You can’t... say things like that!” 

Yaku raised an eyebrow. Had he found a weak spot perhaps? He cradled Lev’s face and pressedtheir foreheads together. 

“Can’t say what? How good you look?” 

He punctuated his question with an experimental thrust of his hips, and Lev cried out exquisitely. 

“Or how good you feel?” 

He thrust again, angling his hips slightly and digging in his heels for more force. 

“Ah! Ahh!!” 

Lev couldn’t hold himself up anymore and slumped over completely, draping his long body over Yaku, fingers digging into the sheets with need. 

“Hah... Lev, you feel so good...” 

Yaku had picked up a steady rhythm now that Lev had lost his. His ragged gasps were hot against Yaku’s ear and spurred him to move faster, harder... He gripped Lev’s hips hard enough to bruise and began thrusting with abandon. His pace was erratic and his technique was unpolished, he knew, but even so he could occasionally hit Lev’s sweet spot, sending shockwaves through his body. 

“Ya-Yaku... san.... Ah!” 

Yaku kissed the hollow of his neck, unable to reach Lev’s lips. “Always so loud... ngh!” 

“Yaku-san... hah... please...” 

Lev hunched as best he could to meet Yaku’s lips, swallowing his moans and gasps. Their breaths intermingled, the sounds of their pleasure reaching new, impressive volumes. Soon, they were both desperately calling out each other’s names, and who could say who was louder? Surely the distinction didn’t matter to Lev’s neighbors. 

When Lev let out a choked sob, Yaku knew he was close. He reached down between them and stroked Lev to his finish. 

“Come for me, Lev.” 

And he obeyed. With a stuttering gasp, he bucked and spasmed and spilled his cum all over Yaku’s stomach, his knuckles white against the sheets. 

Yaku didn’t last much longer, and after only a few more thrusts he also came, half inside Lev and half over the sheets. 

“Shit—sorry,” he mumbled. 

Exhausted, he threw his head back against the mattress and let out a deeply satisfied sigh. 

But Lev kissed him gently and whispered, “I wanted you to come inside.” 

Yaku blushed and turned his face away, parroting Lev’s earlier complaint, “Y-you... you can’t just say things like that...” 

To which, Lev merely echoed Yaku’s sigh of satisfaction and laughed. He peppered Yaku’s face and neck with kisses as he collapsed beside him, trying for all his absurd height to be the little spoon. 

“So... was that... good for you?” Yaku asked the ceiling, all his earlier confidence slowly evaporating as he came down from the high of release. 

Yaku tried not to think too hard about Lev’s past experiences. He could feel reasonably certain that Lev wasn’t mentally ranking everyone he’d ever slept with, but at the very least, Yaku just wanted to make sure he didn’t rank dead last. 

“Yaku-san!” Lev pouted. “Wasn’t it obvious? You make me feel better than anyone ever has!” 

“Now that can’t be true,” Yaku frowned at Lev’s hyperbole. “Not when—” 

“Of course it is! I love you!” Lev’s rebuttal was quick and decisive. And without registering any of Yaku’s shock, he added, “Having sex with someone you love doesn’t compare to having just sex!” 

“Th-that’s...” 

Yaku remained quite speechless while Lev remained oblivious to what he’d just admitted, merely snuggling closer and asking (almost) innocently, 

“Can we shower together? I know my bathroom’s smaller, but...” 

“You... I...” Yaku sighed. “Yeah all right, okay.” 

They untangled their limbs and slowly clambered out of the bed, feeling too heavy and loose to skip toward the shower, but too sticky and uncomfortable to stay in the bed. Love could elevate the sex, but apparently not the messy feeling afterward. What a trick that would be. 

Really, if he thought about it, Lev’s sudden declaration of love wasn’t a surprise. If they could both hold onto their feelings for so long, through all the messy complications and the distance to make sure they were in each other’s lives, what else could he call it, if not love? A clumsy, perplexing kind of love to be sure, but Yaku wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world. 

“Yaku-san?” Lev held out a hand to him as he stood and grinned. “Spacing out because I made you feel so good?” 

He could kick him in the knees, they were right there. Yaku took two seconds to think about it, proof of his newfound impulse control, then did so. 

“Ow! Yaku-saaaann!” Lev wailed as he crumpled. “What was that for?” 

“Because I love you, you idiot. Now come on.” 

He dashed out of the room before Lev could see his face grow beet red, and after taking several seconds, he heard Lev’s voice behind him screech, 

“EH!?! Hang on! Yaku-san?! What did you just say?!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did want to add that I have titled every chapter of this fic with some word beginning with Re- to symbolize the chance to do something over. Coming up with an Re- title for this chapter, my brain, immediately, within seconds, said, "Rectum." 
> 
> ...obviously I did not go with Rectum. Or rectal. Or eREct, which was another option.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me elsewhere to talk about volleyboys!  
> Twitter: @Luna_Dreaming  
> Tumblr: nimbus-cloud


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